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R.  W.     E>IERTON 


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POEMS, 


ON 


VARIOUS  SUBJECTS. 


By  ISABELLA  OLIVLR, 

Of  Cumberland  County 9  Pennsylvania, 


ALL,  hail,  ye  mighty  masters  of  the  lay, 
Nature's  true  suns,  the  friends  of  men  and  truth ! 

Whose  song,  sublimely  sweet,  serenely  gay, 
Amus'd  my  childhood,  and  inform  Jd  my  youth. 

JBEATTIE'S  MINSTREL. 


FROM  THE  PRESS  OF  A.  LOUDON, 
(WHITEHALL.) 

1805.     .    •   .'. 

^,:-- 


TO  WIT  : 

***  :***  BE  IT  REMEMBERED,  That  on  the  twelfth  day 
*  SEAL.  *  of  June,  in  the  Twenty -ninth  Year  of  the  Independ- 
**********  ence  of  the  United  States  of  America,  A.  D.  1805. 
Isabella  Oliver,  of  the  said  District,  hath  deposited  in  this 
Office,  the  Title  of  a  Book,  the  Right  whereof  she  claims  as 
Author,  in  the  Words  following,  to  wit : 

"  Poems,   on  Various  Subjects.     By    Isabella  Oliver,  of 
"  Cumberland  County,  Pennsylvania," 

In  Conformity  to  the  Act  of  the  Congress  of  the  United 
States,  intituled,  *e  An  Act  for  the  Encouragement  of  Learning, 
by  securing  the  Copies  of  Maps,  Charts,  and  Books,  to  the 
Authors  and  Proprietors  of  such  Copies  during  the  Times 
therein  mentioned"  And  also  to  the  Act,  entitled  "  An  Act 
supplementary  to  an  act,  entitled,  "  An  Act  for  the  F.ncourage- 
ment  of  Learning,  by  securing  tne  Copies  of"  Maps,  Charts,  and 
Books,  to  the  Authors  and  Proprietors  of  such  Copies  during 
the  Times  therein  mentioned,"  and  extending  the  Benefits 
thereof  to  the  Arts  of  designing,  engraving,  and  etching  his 
torical  and  other  Prints." 

D,  CALDWELL,  Clerk  of  the 
District  of  Pennsylvania. 


TO  THE  EDITOR. 


sat, 

AS  you  are  about  soon  to  publish  a 
volume  of  Miss  OLIVER'S  Poems,  I  have 
thought  it  proper  to  communicate  some  parti 
culars  respecting  the  Poetess  and  her  perform 
ance,  which  you  may  give  to  the  public  in 
any  way  you  judge  best.  She  is  the  daugh 
ter  of  James  Oliver,  Esq.  long  an  inhabitant 
of  Cumberland  county, — a  worthy  citizen, — « 

an  eminent  mathematician, — of  whom  she  was 
deprived,  when  about  fourteen  years  of  age. 
She  never  received  any  tiling  more  than  a  com 
mon  english  education.  She  very  early  dis 
covered  a  fondness  for  rhyme,  and  took  plea 
sure  in  clothing  her  friendly  and  pious  senti 
ments  in  a  poetic  dress.  And  what  is  very 


r  4  j 

remarkable,  though  strictly  true,  she  composed 
her  pieces,  generally,  while  engaged  in  the 
common  business  of  life,  or  while  taking  a 
walk,  and  finished  them  without  putting  pen 
to  paper:  and  when  she  was  solicited  to 
make  a  collection  for  publication,  not  being  a 
ready  writer  herself,  she  dictated  them  to  ano 
ther  person,  who  wrote  them  down.  These 
Poems,  therefore,  have  come,  not  so  properly 
from  the  pen,  as  from  the  memory  and  the 
heart  of  the  Poetess.  The  reader  may  be  as 
sured,  (by  one  who  has  taken  pains  to  be  well 
informed)  that  they  are  published  exactly  as 
she  dictated  them,  except  a  few  words  which 
she  thought  proper  to  substitute  for  others,  or 
to  add,  or  transpose,  when  she  examined  the 
proof-sheets,  and  a  very  few  lines  which  are 
marked  as  quotations.  As  she  has  always  been 
fond  of  the  exercises  of  religion,  well  acquaint* 
ed  with  the  sacred  writings,  and  also  with  the 


C     5     ] 

works  of  celebrated  Divines,  this  sufficiently  ac 
counts  for  the  vein  of  piety  which  runs  through 
all  her  Poems.  This,  it  is  hoped,  will  greatly 
recommend  them  to  every  serious  reader.  She 
appears  to  aim  at  something  much  higher  than 
the  mere  play  of  fancy  or  momentary  amuse 
ment  ;  it  is,  that  the  cause  of  virtue  and  piety 
may  be  promoted.  That  the  public  may  duly 
estimate  so  rare  a  performance,  and  give  all 
due  encouragement  to  the  benevolent  and  pious 
Muse,  is  the  sincere  wish  of, 
Sir, 
Your  humble  servant, 

R.  D, 

Mr.  ARCHIBALD  LOUDON, 
Carlisle,  June3d9.IBQ5. 


A  2 


Content^ 


Addressed  to  the  Author,  by  Mrs.  J.  F 

in  answer  to  a  request,  that  she  would  be  a 
partner  in  this  publication.  1 1 

Inscribed  to  Mrs.  J.  F .  13 

On  the  death  of  General  Washington,  16 

Sacred  to  the  memory  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Wither- 
spoon,  late  President  of  New- Jersey  Col- 
lege.  18 

In  memory  of  the   learned  and  Rev.  Dr. 
Charles  Nisbet,  late  Principal  of  Dickin 
son  College.  20 
In  memory  of  the  late  Gen.  Alexander  Ha 
milton,  'who  fell  in  a  duel  'with  Aaron  Burr.     54 
Composed  by  the  Author  when  in  Childhood.       22 
On  a  Summer- House — at  the  request  of  Miss 

J.  S .  23 

At  the  request  of  B n.  25 

A  Hymn.  27 

Composed  at  the  request  of  a  Lady  in  the  ab 
sence  of  her  Husband.  29 
On  Love — At  the  request  of  a  Friend.  30 
To  Serenia.                                                         34 
Composed  in  Childhood — Morning*  37 
Evening.                                                              38 
A  Morning  Piece.                                              39 
On  the  death  of  Mrs.  F.  and  her  Infant  Son, 
in  the  absence  of  her  Husband.                      4*2 


vii  CONTENTS. 

Page* 

A  Soliloquy.  47 

The  Redeemer's  Glory.  50 

Reflections.  59 

Lines  addressed  to  Mrs.  H n.  61 

To  Mr.  H d.  63 

Composed  by  the  Author  on  passing  by  the 

place  of  her  nativity.  65 

To  Juriius,  with  Toung's  Night  Thoughts.  67 

Another  to  the  same.  68 

Sacred  to  the  memory  of  Mr.  W.  W—.  69 

To  Mrs.  M .   '  71 

To  Phebe.  72 

To  Ahira.  74 

Sacred  to  the  memory  of  Mrs.  S.  M *  76 

On  the  death  of  Mrs.  S.  T .  77 

God,  our  Helper.  81 

Amanda.  82 

To  Maria  M .  83 

Composed  on  the  Banks  of  Canodoguinet.  84 
On  the  death  of  her  Father's  Sisters,  who 

died  wit /tin  one  week  of  each  other:  in  tiva 

parts.  85 

To  her  Sister.  87 

Inscribed  to  her  Brothers.  90 

Melancholy  instance  of  human  depravity.  93 

Delia.  98 

To  the  memory  of  W.  M ,  who  died  at 

Natchez.   '  100 

To  Miss  S.  W- y  on  the  recovery  of  her 

health.  102 

Ekanora.           -       •      .                ..-.•-..  103 


CONTENTS.  viii 

Page. 

Epitlialamium.  105 

Ode  to  Virtue.  106 

To  Eliza.  107 

Contemplations.  Ill 

To  Miss  y .  112 

Matilda.  113 

Touth.  115 

A  Hymy.  117 

The  absurdity  of  Atheism.  118 

Tlie  Friends,  from  real  Life,  119 

Christ  our  Shepherd.  121 

To  Mrs.  D .  122 

Spring.  123 

On  reading  Emma  Corbet.  124 

A  Tale.  125 

On  Slavery.  137 

Lucinda.  146 

Love's  Conflict  with  Reason.  160 

Occasioned  by  the  unexpected  serenity  of  the 

morning.  162 

A  Mourning  Piece.  169 

On  the  marriage  of  Mr.  H ,  to  Miss 

M'C .  172 

To  Anna.  174 

An  adieu  to  the  place  of  her  Nativity.  176 
Lines  occasioned  by  the  death  of  the  Rev. 

W.  M .  177 

Truth — An  Allegory.  179 

To  Miss.  R.  G .  183 

Written  at  the  request  of  a  Lady,  in  the  ab 
sence  of  her  Husband  and  Child.  185 


ix  CONTENTS. 

Page. 

To  the  memory  of  Mr.  0 P .  186 

Aspasia.  188 
An  Elegy.    Occasioned  by  the  sudden  death  of 

W.  M'Cormick.  190 

A  Fragment.  193 

A  Song.  194 

A  Song.  196 

To  the  Public.  198 

An  address  to  Fancy,  By  Mrs.  J.  F .  202 


POEMS, 

ON 

VARIOUS   SUBJECTS. 
ADDRESSED  TO  THE  AUTHOR,  BY  Mrs.  J.  F — , 

IN  ANSWER  TO  A  REQUEST,  THAT  SHE 
WOULD  BE  A  PARTNER  IN  THIS  PUBLICA 
TION. 

DOST  thou  ask  me,  dearest  maid, 
To  forsake  this  peaceful  shade, 
Where  by  Heaven's  wisdom  plac'd, 
Life's  meridian  I  have  pass'd? 
Here  amidst  the  rural  throng, 
If  I  chant  my  rustic  song, 
Pleas'd  the  listening  group  attend, 
And  the  artless  lay  commend ; 
While  partial  kindness  spreads  a  veil, 
Every  blemish  to  conceal : 
But  should  I  thy  plan  pursue, 
And  emerge  to  public  view, 


12  POEMS. 

What  different  treatment  must  I  bear, 
The  critic's  taunt,  the  u itling's  sneer ! 
While  genius,  from  his  height  sublime, 
Would  pitying  view  my  waste  of  time ; 
And  prudent  housewives  thank  their  stars, 
They  dealt  in  no  such  useless  wares. 

But  thou,  to  whom  indulgent  Heaven 
Superior  gifts  has  kindly  given ! 
Go  on ;  and  in  thy  moral  page 
Instruct  and  please  the  rising  age : 
Rouse  and  animate  our  youth, 
In  the  search  of  sacred  truth : 
Fan  devotion's  hallow'd  flame, 
And  point  to  heav'n  each  ardent  aim  : 
Till  hope,  and  truth,  and  love  divine, 
In  their  lives  and  actions  shine. 
And,  when  thou  quit'st  thy  earthly  lyre, 
To  join  the  bright  celestial  choir, 
Thy  harmonious  pow'rs  shall  raise 
Seraphic  strains,  in  grateful  praise 
To  him,  who  fills  heav'ns  awful  throne ! 
Thf  eternal  Godhead,  Three  in  One  1 


POEMS.  13 


INSCRIBED  TO  MRS.  J.  F- 


WH  Y  should  my  friend  neglect  the  gifts  of  heaven. 
Who  has  to  all  their  different  talents  given  ? 
Let  critics  point  the  faults  we  ought  to  mend. 
And  every  art  its  sister  ait  befriend  : 
While  we  the  dictates  of  the  muse  obey, 
And  shape  our  course  as  nature  points  the  way. 
Thou  lively  emblem  of  whatever  is  kind  ! 
Why  should  the  precious  offspring  of  thy  mind 
Be  kept  so  close  ?— Come,  let  them  take  the  air, 
They'll  bloom  more  fresh  at  least,  if  not  more  fair; 
The  sun,  indeed,  may  tinge  their  lily  hue, 
But  while  imbrowning  it  invig'rates  too. 

Orestus  seconds,  but  we  plead  in  vain ; 
The  coward  muse  denies  her  pleasing  strain, 
Or  breathes  it  softly  to  unconscious  trees; 
May-hap  indebted  to  some  freindly  breeze 
Some  notes  are   caught;    transported  with  the 

sound,' 

We  for  die  unseen  warbler  gaze  round. 
B 


14  POEMS. 

You  for  concealment  cannot  name  a  plea 
But  what  applies  with  equal  force  to  me. 
Shall  I  go  on,  regardless  of  th'  event, 
Borne  strangely  forward  by  my  native  bent? 
Methinks  I  could  with  greater  firmness  stand, 
Might  I  but  hold  thee  by  thy  friendly  hand. 
Yet  let  not  kindness  tempt  thee  to  agree 
To  act  contrariant  to  thy  mind  for  me. 
At  worst,  I  think,  it  cannot  be  a  crime ; 
Sure  there's  no  bloodshed  in  a  mangled  rhyme ; 
Or  should  there  be,  e'en  while  that  blood  is  spill 
ing* 

Those  cannot  suffer  who  are  void  of  feeling. 
Pen,  ink,  and  paper,  neither  hear  nor  see  ; 
Of  course  the  anguish  all  devolves  on  me  ; 
Or  at  the  very  farthest,  but  extends 
To  the  kind  bosom  of  those  partial  friends, 
To  whom  I  very  freely  give  a  share, 
Since  they  neglect  to  warn  me  to  forbear. 

Dear  friends,  I'm  gone  beyond  a  hint,  I  doubt; 
If  you  would  stop  me,  pray  speak  freely  out, 
Or  else,  let  life  or  death  this  work  betide, 
Hereafter  stand  with  firmness  by  my  side. 
Cannot  your  kindness  break  each  cruel  blow 
That  may  be  dealt  to  lay  my  laurels  low  ? 


POEMS.  15 

Such  words  as  these  may  soften  my  concern — 
"  The  world  wants  judgment  and  cannot  discern ; 
"  Some  lib'ral  minds  alone  confess  their  merit, 
"  The  rest  are  guided  by  a  captious  spirit — ." 
O  words  more  sweet  than  sugar-plumbs  or  pears ! 
Grateful  as  healing  oil  to  aching  ears  ! 
The  pleasing  foretaste  makes  my  heart  expand ; 
With  such  a  cordial  plac'd  so  near  at  hand. 
Why  should  I  hesitate,  why  wait  to  think, 
But  freely  at  Parnassus'  fountain  drink  ? 
"  How  shall  the  muse  in  silence  then  remain  ?" 
The  air  we  breathe  of  course  respires  again. 
Till  these  inspiring  streams  shall  cease  to  flow  ; 
While  on  their  borders  fancy's  garlands  grow ; 
While  there  are  sprigs  enough  to  form  a  wreath ; 
'Twill  be  as  natural  to  rhyme  as  breathe. 

Here  let  me  turn  the  current  of  my  lays, 
Lest  you  suppose  me  angling  after  praise. 
But  were  I  conscious  of  no  higher  aim, 
I'd  stand  indebted  to  ingenuous  shame 
For  that  which  would-be-beauties  vainly  spread 
On  sallow  cheeks — I  mean,  a  little  red. 
Where  my  true  motives  are  not  understood, 
Sweet  charity,  draw  near,  and  think  them  good. 


16  POEMS. 


ON   THE  DEATH  OF  GENERAL  WASHINGTON. 


LO  !  a  dark  cloud  its  banners  hath  unfurl'd, 
And  wrapt  in  sable  half  the  western  world. 
This  day*  the  festive  dance  was  wont  to  grace, 
When  smiling  pleasure  brighten'd  every  face. 
How  different  now!    The  shaft  which  laid  him 

low 

Turns  sprightly  songs  to  elegies  of  woe ! 
This  day,  my  friends,  forget  each  private  cross ; 
Lose  selfish  sorrow  in  the  gen'ral  loss. 
Let  every  heart  with  gen'rous  ardour  glow, 
Till  public  virtue  springs  from  public  woe. 
While  his  dear  um  with  grateful  tears  we  lave, 
Let  us  still  bless  th'  auspicious  day  that  gave 
America  a  son  who  gilds  her  name  ; 
For  with  his  own  he  rais'd  his  country's  fame. 
WASHINGTON'S  glory  through  the  world  is 

spread, 
And  distant  nations  mourn  the  hero  dead. 

*  February  32d,  being  the  anniversary  of  the  General's  birth. 


POEMS.  17 

Let  us  do  more :  while  weeping  o'er  his  grave, 

Let  us  his  virtues  on  our  souls  engrave , 

5Tis  true,  all  are  not  call'd  to  public  life, 
And  few  are  leaders  in  a  glorious  strife  ; 
But  on  this  earthly  stage  we  all  sustain 
A  part,  and  none  should  spend  their  time  in  vain. 
Did  he  with  zeal  his  arduous  task  pursue  ? 
Shall  we  neglect  the  little  we've  to  do  ? 
Did  he  his  life  in  public  labour  spend, 
Yet  every  private  duty  well  attend  ? 
Let  those,  then,  blush,  who,  free  from  public  cares, 
Suffer  confusion  in  their  own  affairs. 
Shall  there  be  fathers,  without  any  claim 
To  that  endearing  title,  save  the  name  ? 
Mothers,  forgetful  of  their  precious  trust  ? 
Perfidious  friends,  or  magistrates  unjust  ? 
Children,  who  bursting  every  filial  tie, 
Can  break  their  parents'  hearts  without  a  sigh  ? 
Young  menandmaids,  infashion's  whirlpool  toss'd, 
Till  ev'ry  virtuous  principle  is  lost  ? 
Forbid  it,   ev'ry  sable  sign  of  grief, 
That  marks  respect  for  the  illustrious  chief, 
Whose  bright  example  strongly  recommends 
Rev'rence  to  God,  and  faithfulness  to  friends. 
B.2 


18  POEMS. 

No  mad  ambition  fir'd  his  gen'rous  blood  ; 
Above  his  own  he  sought  his  country's  good. 
And  now  we  hear  the  public  voice  proclaim, 
That  merit  is  the  proper  road  to  fame : 
This  truth's  attached  to  his  beloved  name. 


SACRED   TO  THE    MEMORY  OF   THE    REV. 

DR.    WlTHERSPOOtf,      LATE  PRESIDENT 

OF  NEW-JERSEY  COLLEGE. 


WEAK  are  the  efforts  of  this  feeble  pen 
To  trace  the  merits  of  the  best  of  men ! 
Shall  I  presume,  shall  I,  alas !  pretend 
To  paint  a  worth  I  cannot  comprehend  I 
Let  some  superior  genius  who  has  trode 
Under  his  care  the  scientific  road, 
Tell  us  how  deep,  how  solid,  how  refin'd. 
Were  all  the  powers  of  his  exalted  mind  : 
Tell  us,  of  wisdom  what  a  wond'rous  store 
He  gather'd  from  the  wise  who  went  before  : 
Tell  us,  how  great  in  council  he  appears, 
When  public  danger  call'd  to  state  affairs  i 


POEMS.  19 

Bring  his  distinguish'd  merits  back  to  view, 
And  strive  to  pay  departed  worth  its  due. 
Mine  be  an  easier  task.... Let  me  impart 
In  artless  strains,  the  feelings  of  my  heart. 
Let  me  give  vent  to  grateful  friendship's  flame, 
Which  melts  my  heart  to  think  upon  his  name  ! 
His  much-lov'd  name  I  ever  shall  revere ; 
While  mem'ry  lasts  I'll  hold  his  memory  dear  : 
For  still  I  saw  him  uniformly  good  ; 
Firm  to  the  cause  of  sacred  truth  he  stood  ; 
His  principles  and  life  did  well  accord ; 
In  both  he  strove  to  glorify  his  Lord. 
Alas !   he's  gone !  Now  tears  in  torrents  fall  1 
A  general  sadness  darkens  "  Nassau-Hall !" 
Yet  still  he  speaks  in  the  instructive  page  ; 
He  lives,  and  will  through  each  successive  age, 


20  POEMS. 


IN     MEMORY    OF      THE      LEARNED     AND    REV. 

DR.  CHARLES  NISBET,  LATE  PRINCIPAL 
OF  DICKINSON  COLLEGE. 


ALAS  !  another  luminary's  gone ! 

"  Whence  rays   of  truth  and   science  brightly 

shone." 

Great  Ni  s  B  E  T 's  dead !  He  too  from  Scotia  came, 
His  soul  inspired  with  thy  sacred  flame, 
O  Liberty  !  He  mark'd  thy  glorious  rise, 
And  rapid  growth  beneath  these  western  skies. 
Though  to  his  country  and  his  sovereign  true, 
He  took  delight  thy  opening  charms  to  view ; 
For  still  the  active  friend  of  human  kind, 
No  local  prejudices  dimm'd  his  mind. 
Deal'  to  the  hearts  of  all  the  wise  and  good, 
Among  the  foremost  in  the  church  he  stood ; 
Dear  to  his  flock,  they  to  him  fondly  clung, 
And  on  his  lips  for  fresh  instruction  hung. 
There  is  not  scope  enough  in  words  to  tell 
The  pangs  attending  on  their  last  farewell ! 
In  hopes  of  greater  usefulness  he  bore 
The  conflict  Witherspoonendur'd  before, 


POEMS.  21 

O  give  the  muse  a  prospect  of  the  sea, 

To  tell  the  dangers  that  he  brav'd  to  see 

This  young  Republic,  and  with  care  and  pains 

Spread  useful  knowledge  o'er  these  wide  domains. 

Arriv'd  ;  the  gates  of  Dickinson  are  spread; 

The  infant  College  hails  him  as  its  head. 

Here  long  he  did  with  genuine  lustre  shine, 

As  husband,  father,  scholar,  and  divine  ; 

But  sunk  at  last  oppress'd  with  age  and  care  ! — - 

O  Providence,  supply  his  vacant  chair  ! 

O  bless  this  seminary  !  may  it  be 

The  nurse  of  morals  and  of  piety, 

As  well  as  science  :  may  these  all  combine  ! — 

Send  forth  its  sons  a  blessing  to  mankind, 


22  POEMS. 


COMPOSED  BY  THE  AUTHORESS  WHEN 
CHILDHOOD. 


I'VE  just  begun  a  walk  through  life  -y 

And  to  avoid  all  future  strife^ 

I  now  should  cultivate  a  mind 

For  immortality  designed. 

Shall  I  to  manly  thoughts  aspire, 

And  nought  but  what  is  great  admire  ?' 

No :  I'll  to  softer  rules  conform, 

And  rather  fly  than  meet  a  storm ; 

But  should  that  storm  my  flight  o'ertake, 

And  after  all  upon  me  break  ; 

Then  let  me  bear  it  patiently, 

And  with  the  greatest  constancy. 

Within  this  breast  let  pity  glow, 

And  my  heart  melt  at  others  woe  ; 

For  souls  devoid  of  feeling,  find 

A  dreadful  vacancy  of  mind. 

O  may  my  soul  each  virtue  grace, 

And  make  it  far  transcend  my  face  ! 

For  faces  shortly  must  decay, 

But  souls  last  to  eternitv  ! 


POEMS.  23 


*•  •>','-  * 


ON  A  SUMMER-HOUSE AT  THE  REQUEST  OF 

Miss  J.  S. 


YOU  name  a  subject  for  the  drooping  muse ; 
How  can  I  then  the  pleasing  task  refuse  ? 
Alas !  my  friend,  the  flame  of  verse  bums  low,^ 
I've  lost,  I've  lost  th'  enthusiastic  glow 
That  once  inspir'd  my  breast,  and  bade  sponta- 

ous  numbers  flow. 
Have  I  not,  with  my  native  walks  and  streams, 
Resign'd  gay  fancy's  visionary  dreams  ? 
'Twas  there  my  first  ideas  took  their  rise, 
And  with  the  scene  the  glowing  image  flies. 
O  lead  me  to  your  solitary  seat, 
Your  fav'rite  arbour,  your  belov'd  retreat, 
Where  nature  acts  th'  ingenious  artist's  part, 
Nay,  goes  beyond  the  rivalship  of  art. 
From  her  complete  the  curious  building  came, 
One  tree  supports  and  finishes  the  frame. 
How  many  beauties  croud  into  the  scene  ! 
The  gliding  waters  and  the  level  green, 
Seen  from  an  height  that  strikes  with  solemn  awe, 
And  lifts  the  soul,  as  'twere,  by  nature's  law ; 


24  POEMS. 

Whilst  the  sweet  songster  of  the  shady  grove 
Infuses  softness,  harmony  and  love. 

0  nature  !  how  shall  I  thy  charms  express  ? 

1  love  thee  still,  although  I  court  thee  less. 
Sweet  are  the  charms  of  nature's  smiling  face, 
But  sweeter  far  the  charms  of  saving  grace : 
This  charming  subject,  this  itself  alone 
Could  never  be  exhausted,  never  done ; 
This  animating  subject  might  infuse 

A  living  fire  into  the  dullest  muse ; 

This  elevating  subject  might  impart 

Sublime  ideas  to  the  grossest  heart : 

It  humbles  pride,  and  bids  the  lowly  rise, 

Strengthens  the  weak,  and  makes  the  simple  wise, 

Is  the  best  refuge  in  severe  distress, 

The  best,  indeed,  our  only  real  bliss. 

O  Earth  !  thy  beauties  would  be  soon  forgot, 

As  quite  unworthy  of  a  single  thought, 

If  the  sharp  sword  of  justice  now  were  seen 

Ready  to  strike,  and  none  to  step  between. 

But  through  our  Lord  that  dreadful  sword  was 

driven, 

And  thus  a  passage  made  from  earth  to  heaven. 
When  on  this  friend  our  hearts  and  hopes  are  fix'd, 
This  world  he  gives  us,  and  ensures  the  next. 


POEMS.  25 


AT   THE  REQUEST  OF  B N. 


B N,  for  you  I  touch  the  trembling  string  ; 

Once  more  th'  adventurous  muse  attempts  to  sing, 
And  for  my  subject  I  this  morning  choose 
The  wild  excursions  of  the  wandering  muse. 
The  muse  is  wont  to  seek  the  shady  grove, 
To  sing  the  sweets  of  solitude  and  love ; 
Or  touch  with  trembling  hand  the  sacred  lyre, 
And  consecrate  to  heaven  the  poet's  fire. 
At  times  the  starry  wonders  of  the  sky 
Strike  with  such  force  upon  the  mental  eye, 
Th'  unfetter'd  soul  starts  from  its  low  abode, 
And's  lost  in  the  immensity  of  God. 
Again,  she  lets  sublimer  objects  pass, 
To  moralize  upon  a  blade  of  grass ; 
Gives  rocks,  and  dells,  and  purling  streams  re 
nown, 

And  shuns  the  noise  and  bustle  of  the  town; 
Prefers  a  simple  and  obscure  retreat, 
To  the  luxuriant  dwellings  of  the  great ; 
C 


26  POEMS. 

Inhales  with  more  delight  the  balmy  breeze, 
And  hears  the  tuneful  tenants  of  the  trees, 
With  more  refin'd  sensations  than  presume 
To  entertain  us  in  the  stately  room. 
At  times  the  muse  will  all  her  skill  employ 
To  soften  grief  and  heighten  every  joy  ; 
With  fancied  beauties  deck  this  mortal  stage, 
And  to  the  mind  renew  the  golden  age. 
Anon,  a  sable  vestment  she  assumes, 
Absorbs  the  soul  in  more  than  midnight  glooms. 
Doubles  the  weight  of  necessary  cares, 
Bursts  forth  in  sighs,  or  melts  in  briny  tears ; 
Sickens  at  folly,  yet  remains  unwise, 
And  courts  the  vanities  she  must  despise : 
Then  e?en  religion  heightens  painful  thought, 
Showing  the  dreadful  havock  sin  has  wrought. 
But  soon  her  genial  influence  clears  the  sky, 
In  her  true  peace  and  solid  comforts  lie, 
For  long  unhappy  they  can  never  be, 
O  gracious  God,  who  place  their  trust  inthee; 
Who  count  thy  glory  as  their  highest  good, 
And  seek  thy  favour  through  a  Saviour's  blood ; 
Who  seek  thee  in  thy  own  appointed  way, ' 
Revere;  thy  laws  and  on  thy  gospel  stay. 


POEMS.  27 

Where  is  the  union?  What  strange  contact  binds 
Material  things  to  immaterial  minds  ? 
By  what  mysterious  influence  can  it  be, 
We're  join'd  to  all  we  hear,  or  feel,  or  see  ? 
How  is  it,  sunshine  or  refreshing  showers 
Revive  the  soul  and  animate  her  powers  ? 
And  yet  she  still  asserts  her  heavenly  birth, 
By  starving  when  she  seeks  her  all  on  earth : 
Though  here  she  may  some  slight  refreshment 

find, 

Her  element  is  of  a  nobler  kind  : 
On  human  souls  God  made  his  image  known, 
And  satisfies  them  with  himself  alone. 


A  HYMN. 


SEE  !   from  his  throne  of  glory  bright, 
Where  Angels  wrorship  with  delight, 
JESUS,  the  glorious  Prince  of  Peace, 
Descends  to  save  our  ruin'd  race. 

On  earth  he  fixes  his  abode ; 
Earth  has  a  visit  from  her  God ! 


28  POEMS. 

A  veil  of  flesh  he  deigns  to  wear. 
And  dwell  with  sinful  mortals  here. 

Nor  doth  he  as  a  monarch  dwell, 
Though  Lord  of  heaven,  and  earth,  and  hell ; 
No  crown  that  blessed  head  adorns, 
But  one  that's  made  of  piercing  thorns. 

His  life  was  one  continued  scene 
Of  doing  good  to  wretched  men  ; 
And  as  his  follower,  surely  I, 
To  do  what  good  I  can,  should  try. 

I  am  all  frail  and  weak,  'tis  tine, 
And  of  myself  can  nothing  do ; 
But  in  thy  hand  I  fain  would  be 
The  means  of  bringing  some  to  thee. 

And  as  for  me,  O  God  of  grace ! 
Grant  but  my  name  some  humble  place 
Within  thy  book  of  life,  that  I 
May  sing  thy  praise  eternally. 


POEMS.  29 


COMPOSED  AT  THE  REQUEST  OF  A  LADY  IN 
THE  ABSENCE  OF  HER  HUSBAND. 


0  SACRED  love !  sweet  source  of  grief  and  joy ! 
'Tis  thine  to  bless,  and  thou  canst  bliss  destroy* 
The  most  exalted  pleasures  that  we  feel, 
Arise  from  love-,  tlxat  love  that's  pure  and  real : 
And  sure  the  sharpest  pangs  which  rend  the  heart, 
Arc  when  a  faithful  pair  arc  doom'd  to  part. 
When  from  my  side  my  dearest  self  was  torn, 
'Twas  then  I  might  be  truly  said  to  mourn. 
Behold  our  infant  train  assembled,  round  ! 
Should    I    complain   when    with   such   blessings 

crown'd ! 

1  view  them  with  a  fond  impatient  eye, 
And  trace  your  image  in  each  smiling  boy. 
O  where  shall  I  thy  truest  likeness  find? 

>Tis  best  impress  Yl  on  my  own  bleeding  mind. 
Could  I  the  feelings  of  my  heart  unfold  ; — 
But  they  aiv  such  as  never  can  be  told. 
To  think  in  silence  is  my  liapl  ss  lot, 
And  you  the  subject  of  each  rising  thought. 
C2 


30  POEMS. 

Sometimes  my  bosom's  fill'd  with  chilling  fears ; 
A  scene  of  horror  to  my  view  appeal's. 
Methinks  I  see  you  in  a  distant  place, 
Without  a  friend,  without  a  last  embrace, 
Expiring  lie.     If  this  should  be  your  fate — 
I  cannot  bear  the  thought — O  desp'rate  state ! 
But  heaven,  I  trust,  has  better  things  in  store ; 
Heaven  will  restore  thee  to  my  arms  once  more. 
And  when  we  meet,  what  transport  will  it  be 
To  open  all  my  secret  thoughts  to  thee, 
To  tell  thee  all  the  feelings  of  my  breast, 
And  in  thy  sweet  society  be  blest. 


ON  LOVE^ — Ax  THE  REQUEST  OF  A  FRIEND* 


LOVE'S  soft  enchantment  let  me  never  know ; 
But  shun,  at  least,  one  avenue  of  woe. 
Let  cold  indifference  chill  my  vital  part, 
And  shut  each  tender  opening  to  my  heart. 
Love's  a  perplex'd  compound  of  hopes  and  fears 
Storms  rais'd  by  sighs,  and  deluges  of  tears. 


POEMS.  31 

Most  leave  the  shore  with  a  propitious  gale ; 
Hope's  gentle  breezes  fill  the  swelling  sail ; 
Smooth  and  unruffl'd  the  soft  waters  flow, 
Covering  the  rocks  and  quicksands  hid  below : 
But  soon,  perhaps,  unthought-of  storms  arise, 
Lifting  the  foaming  billows  to  the  skies. 
Then  stands  reveal'd  the  unsuspected  rock ; 
Hope  sinks  o'erwhelm'd,  and  peace  of  mind  is 

broke. 

AlaS !  how  many  gentle  hearts  have  mourn'd 
The  purest,  tenderest  passion,  unratxirn'd  ? 
While  others  happy  in  a  mutual  flame, 
Their  joys  and  griefs,  their  hopes  and  fears  the 

same; 

Are  by  unthought-of  obstacles  surpris'd, 
And  love  at  duty  must  be  sacrific'd. 
'Tis  dreadful  to  be  station'd  in  a  field, 
Where  it  is  death  to  conquer,  or  to  yield ; 
Where  one  dicisive  step  must  either  prove 
A  breach  of  duty,  or  the  death  of  love. 
But  happy  they  who  prove  their  fix'd  regard 
To  virtue,  though  they  find  her  dictates  hard. 
Among  the  favour'd  few  whose  hearts  and  hands 
Are  firmly  joined  in  Hymen's  silken  bands> 


32  POEMS. 

Where  every  care  and  sorrow  seem  forgot, 
And  crouding  blessings  crown  their  envied  lot : 
Too  soon,  alas !  delight  is  chang'd  to  woe ; 
Death  ends  the  happy  union  at  a  blow. 
Then  how  bereft, — how  des'late, — how  forlofne ! 
?Twas  thus,  alas !  I  saw  my  mother  mourn. 
?Tis  plain,  my  friend,  they  act  a  silly  part, 
Who  give  a  feeble  mortal  all  the  heart. 
Nothing  beneath  the  great  eternal  whole, 
Has  worth  sufficient  to  engross  the  soul. 
But  he  our  sfcrious  trials  has  ordain'd, 
And  by  his  grace  they  all  may  be  sustained. 
He  fills  the  void  when  earthly  comforts  fly ; 
Cements  and  sweetens  every  human  tie. 
Then  let  each  native  passion  have  its  way, 
Govern'd  by  reason's  and  religion's  sway. 
I've  read  some  authors,  who  minutely  state 
The  readiest  means  the  heart  to  regulate. 
They  treat  of  dress,  of  gesture,  and  of  looks, 
And  give  us  lessons  on  the  choice  of  books. 
Then  let  pernicious  novels*  be  resign'd ; 
And  solid  reading  feed  the  craving  mind, 

*.  The  Authoress  does  not.  in'end  to  condemn  all  Novels  as 
pernicious  j  many  of  them  may  be  read  with  profit. 


POEMS.  33 

But  let  me  not  so  sweet  a  pleasure  lose 

As  warms  my  heart  in  culturing  the  muse. 

What  tho'  she  leads  me  to  sequestered  bowers ; 

By  purling  streams  and  meadows  clad  with  flowers ; 

Or  fondly  loiters  in  the  shady  grove, 

Pleas'd  with  the  gentle  wooings  of  the  dove : 

In  this  she  deviates  not  from  nature's  way ; 

And  simple  nature  seldom  leads  astray. 

Ye  powers  of  harmony,  for  ever  dear 

To  me ;  the  readiest  antidote  to  care ; 

Oft  have  you  rais'd  my  soul  on  downy  wings 

Above  the  world  and  all  terrestial  things. 

As  you  have  cheer'd  me  in  life's  earliest  stage, 

O  smooth  the  passage  of  declining  age. 

Let  nought  impure  or  impious  ever  find 

Through  thee  an  introduction  to  the  mind, 

Paint  every  virtue  in  its  native  white, 

And  make  vice  odious  to  the  mortal  sight. 


34  POEMS. 

— ~_ 
To  SERENIA. 

ADIEU !  thou  sweetest,  gentlest  friend, 
Dear  Sister  of  my  heart,  adieu ! 

But  to  the  earth's  remotest  end 
My  kindest  thoughts  shall  follow  you. 

O  Mitio,  every  power  exert 
To  mitigate  the  parting  pang ; 

Through  thee  should  sorrow  reach  her  heart, 
'Twould  give  to  grief  its  bitterest  twang. 

If  tost  about  with  every  wind, 
The  gusts  of  passion  you  obey, 

And  let  the  senses  rule  the  mind, 
Then  love  and  joy  must  die  away. 

Attend  not  to  the  siren  song 
That  \vould  allure  in  pleasure's  guise ; 

Whilst  thou  art  healthy,  young  and  strong, 
Pursue  true  pleasure  where  she  lies. 

Where  true  religion  is  the  guide. 
Integrity's  her  constant  plan ; 

In  such  'tis  natural  to  confide, 
The  wise  will  honour  such  a  man. 


POEMS.  35 

Wilt  thou  that  nobler  path  pursue, 
That  good  may  from  thy  conduct  spring  ? 

Then  heaven-bprn  peace  will  dwell  in  you, 
And  outward  evils  lose  their  spring. 

The  only  parent's  hope  fulfil, 
And  dissipate  her  anxious  fears ; 

On  her  long  widow'd  heart  distil 
Sweet  comfort  in  declining  years. 

Farewell !  farewell,  cherubic  boy ! 
Thy  smiles  may  cheer  a  mother's  heart, 

And  yield  thy  father  purer  joy 
Than  jovial  clubs  could  e'er  impart. 

Let  manly  smiles  his  features  grace 
To  hear  thee  prattling  at  his  knee ; 

Paternal  love  his  sinews  brace, 
And  teach  him  to  provide  for  thee. 

Farewell,  my  friends !  again  farewell ! 
To  bode  of  meeting  is  no  crime, 

The  wisest  mortal  can't  foretel 
What's  buried  in  the  womb  of  time. 

Still  the  same  e'arth  supports  our  feet ; 
One  sun  illumines  all  our  eyes ; 

Though  we  in  person  ne'er  should  meet, 
Our  prayers  may  mingle  as  they  rise. 


36  POEMS. 

From  the  same  hand  divine  we  all  shall  have* 
Whatever  blessings  to  our  lot  may  fall ; 

The  same  Redeemer  died  our  souls  to  save, 
May  his  unspotted  robe  invest  us  all. 

O  may  we  learn  a  Saviour's  worth  to  know, 
By  feeling  our  own  wants,  since  these  are  real, 

And  timely  to  the  great  physician  go, 
Whose  skill  alone  the  sin-sick  soul  can  heal. 

Ah !  might  my  wannest  wish  acceptance  find 
Before  th'  Eternal,  this  should  be  my  prayer, 

That  all  to  whom  I  am  by  kindred  join'd, 
Might  in  this  free,  this  full  salvation  share. 

The  ties  of  nature  form  a  close  embrace, 

Around   the  human  heart  through  life  they 

twine; 

But  firmer  far  than  these  the  ties  of  grace 
Which  ever  last,  and  may  be  call'd  divine. 

Where  both  are  blended  language  cannot  trace 
The    streams   of  pleasure  which    of   course 
must  flow ; 

Did  this  extend  to  all  the  human  race, 
'Twould  make  a  little  Paradise  below. 

*  The  lines  from  this  to  the  conclusion  of  the  Poertl  are  t\va 
syllables  longer  than  those  in  the  former  part. 


POEMS.  37 


COMPOSED  IN  CHILDHOOD — MORNING. 


BRIGHT  morning  comes,   adorn'd  in  all  the 

charms 

Of  sportive  gaiety.     What  rapture  warms 
This  glowing  breast!   while  JFeather'd  warblers 

spring 

From  bough  to  bough,  and  in  sweet  concert  sing. 
Listen — how  they  unite  their  tuneful  lays, 
And  seem  to  chant  their  glorious  Maker's  praise ! 
And  should  not  man  his  grateful  homage  pay, 
Who  fills  a  more  distinguished  rank  than  they  ? 
Is  man  the  noblest  of  God's  works  below? 
Sure  then  his  praise  in  noblest  strains  should  flow, 
A  reasonable  soul  he  doth  enjoy, 
With  the  sweet  hope  of  immortality. 


D 


38  POEMS. 

> 

EVENING. 


EVENING  appears  array 'd  in  modesty. 
No  dark'ning  tempest  clouds  the  azure  sky. 
All  is  serene  and  peaceful  that  appears, 
Sober  and  mild,  like  the  declining  years 
Of  a  good  man,  who  looks  back  on  the  path 
Of  well-spent  days,  then  dares  to  think  on  death. 
Death  just  approaching  draws  the  scene,  to  close 
His  earthly  pleasures  and  his  earthly  woes. 
With  heart  serene  he  thinks  upon  the  tomb, 
As  the  sure  place  to  which  he  soon  must  come  ; 
Where  he  must  lay  his  tottering  body  by, 
And  rob'd  in  goodness,  dwell  above  the  sky. 
There  will  he  praise  and  love  him  who  was  slain, 
To  purify  from  sin's  polluting  stain ; 
Who  sinners  brings  to  the  divine  abode  ; 
Presents  them  spotless  at  the  throne  of  God. 


POEMS.  39 

A  MORNING  PIECE. 


NOW  rosy  morning  sheds  her  sweets  abroad  ; 
The  shades  disperse,  the  gloom  of  night  retires ; 
Aurora,  blushing,  brightens  all  around. 
How  sweet  the  scene!  how  beautiful  to  view 
The  face  of  nature  at  this  early  hour ! 
All  things  look  gay ;  the  verdant  landskip  smiles; 
The  lark  high-soaring  tells  the  world  her  joy  ; 
While  from  the  floating  clouds  ambrosial  dew 
Softly  descends  refreshing  herbs  and  flowers : 
Nor  does  the  vegetable  world  alone, 
Taste  the  glad  influence  of  returning  light ; 
The  brute  creation  too,  rising  from  sleep 
With  nerves  new-brac'd,  with  strength  rencw'd 

by  rest, 

Well  as  their  brutal  natures  will  allow, 
The  sweetly- smiling  summer's  morning  hail. 
O  !  thou  Almighty,  all-pervading  power, 
Whose  boundless  goodness  pours  forth  boundless 

bliss, 
Distil  thy  dewy  mercy  on  my  mind. 


40  POEMS. 

Open  it  wider,  to  receive  the  shower ; 
The  heavenly  beauties  teach  me  to  admire  ; 
And  feed  this  soul,  this  hungry  soul  of  mine, 
With  Christian  virtues,  and  with  every  grace, 
That  can  restore  and  make  my  nature  lovely ; — 
Lovely  to  thee,  and  lovely  to  myself ; 
And  if  thy  sov 'reign  goodness  will  approve 

The  ambitious  wish; 

Engaging  to  my  fellow- creatures  too, 
Nor  for  myself  alone  I  heave  the  prayer, 
Forgetting  those  whom  nature's  tender  ties 
Have  join'd  so  close,    mixing  their  fates  with 

mine. 

First,  for  my  widow'd  mother  I  invoke 
Thy  heavenly  aid,  my  mother  left  alone  ! 
Without  a  partner,  she  must  act  her  part 
In  busy  life,  a  helpless  train  to  rear 
Of  infant  minds,  just  opening  into  life. 
Bless  her  endeavours  with  celestial  smiles ; 
Soften  her  care,  and  heal  her  grief- worn  heart, 
That  still  her  much-lov'd  Oliver  laments. 
As  dearest  next,  and  dearest  to  my  soul, 
My  brothers,  sisters — sisters,  brothers  rise, 
And  in  this  throbbing  bosom  claim  a  place. 


POEMS.  41 

Yes,  my  dear  other  selves,  for  you  I  feel 

The  tenderest  solicitude 

May  you  in  virtue  as  in  stature  grow, 
And  may  your  filial  duty  one  day  prove 
The  sweetest  cordial  to  a  mother's  heart. 
Those  dear  relations  whom  the  tie  of  blood, 
Or  dearer  friendship,  rivets  to  the  soul, 

Come  next : 

In  all  I've  nam'd,  I  feel  th7  endearing  ties. 
Either  the  ties  of  kindred,  or  of  choice, 
Work  in  my  breast  infusing  thoughts  of  kindness, 
My  heart  expanding  as  the  muse  goes  on, 
Embraces  now  the  neighbourhood  at  large, 
Nor  stops  its  sourse,  but  with  extended  arms 
Encircles  all  Columbia's  wide  domains, 
My  country  dear  I  to  my  bosom  hold, 
Her  sons,  her  daughters,  in  one  wide  embrace; 
All  brothers,  sisters  in  a  public  view. 
O !  my  lov'd  country,  dearest  to  my  heart ! 
Long  may  you  flourish,  gen'rous,  brave  and  free; 
Here  may  religion  beam  celestial  smiles ; 
Here  too,  may  science  flourish  unconfin'd, 
And  peace  and  plenty  bless  the  happy  clime. 
My  heart  grown  wider  and  my  love  more  free, 
D  2 


42  POEMS. 

Kindred  and  country  now  confine  no  more ; 
But,  strange  to  think !  whate'er  has  being  finds 
Some  little  place  within  this  little  heart ; 
But  chiefly  all  who  wrear  the  human  form. 
O  thou  Almighty  source  of  life  and  love  ! 
In  whose  bless'd  bosom  true  benev'lence  dwells, 
Fill  my  whole  soul,  possess  my  every  power, 
And,  through  thy  blessed  influence,  diffuse 
My  heart  abroad  in  universal  love. 


ON  THE  DEATH  OF  MRS.  F.  AND  HER  IN 
FANT  SON,  IN  THE  ABSENCE  OF  HER  HlIS- 
BAND. 


WHAT  a  sad  stroke  is  this  !  cut  down  in  all 
The  pride  and  bloom  of  life,  when  fortune's  smile 
And  love's  sweet  influence  gilded  every  scene ; 
When  every  tie  to  life  was  fresh  and  green, 
Conjugal,  filial,  and  fraternal  bands : 
Must  all  be  sever'd  1  The  most  callous  ftel 
Her  bitter  pangs,  her  agonizing  death : 
But  the  submissive  sufferer  meekly  bears ; 


POEMS.  43 

She  feels  the  comfort  of  a  stronger  bond, 

Of  sweet  affiance  to  a  better  friend, 

Than  the  most  stable  in  this  changeful  world. 

Here  is  no  need  of  an  inventive  muse 

To  dress  its  object  in  ideal  charms ; 

Truth  lays  a  firm  foundation  for  my  praise. 

On  the  dear  subject  of  this  weak  essay 

Much  might  be  said,  and  those  who  knew  her 

best 

Can  set  their  seals,  and  add,  all  this  she  was. 
She  was,  alas !  but  is  to  us  no  more ! 
Oh  !   'twas  an  awful,  an  impressive  hour, 
A  solemn  warning  to  both  young  and  old. 
?Tis  scenes  like  this  that  shake  the  confidence 
Of  youth,  and  health ;  death  with  an  iron-hand 
Impresses  vanity  on  all  below. 
Weep,   weep,  ye  friends,   let  nature  have  free 

course, 

Embalm  her  precious  ashes  with  your  tears. 
But,  sure  there  is  a  sweetness  in  your  woe ; 
You  cannot  know  the  bitterness  of  grief; 
For  you  have  reason  to  believe  her  death 
Was  but  a  prelude  to  a  higher  life, 
An  introduction  to  consummate  bliss. 
Ye  mourning  parents,,  contemplate  your  child 


44  POEMS. 

In  a  safe  harbour  plac'd,  beyond  the  reach 
Of  sin's  contagion,  or  of  sorrow's  pang  ; 
In  that  salubrious  clime  where  virtue  thrives. 
Where  nought  impure  shall  e'er  an  entrance  find; 
Crown'd  with  immortal  youth's  unfading  bloom  ; 
In  full  fruition  of  redeeming  love. 
Faith  without  works  is  like  a  sapless  tree ; 
But  works,  depended  on,  will  nought  avail. 
Her's  was  a  fruitful  faith  which  wrought  by  love, 
Its  vital  principle,  whose  influence  spread 
Through  all  her  practice  in  a  copious  stream. 

0  she  was  meek  and  humble,  truly  kind, 
Still  happy  in  diffusing  happiness. 

She  never  met  you  with  a  hollow  smile, 
Nor  spoke  a  language  foreign  to  her  heart, 

1  see  her  now,  she  rises  to  my  view 
Just  with  the  same  benignity  of  look, 
That  smile  of  mingled  kindness  ajid  regret 

She  wore  at  parting  with  her  much-lov'd  mate.  1 
How  tender  was  the  separating  scene  ! 
But  pleasing  hope  suppress'd  the  stealing  tear, 
Held  up  a  false  perspective  to  their  view, 
Pointing  to  future  scenes  of  promis'd  joy ; 
Days,  months,  and  years  in  an  harmonious  round 
Pass  in  rotation  'fore  the  mental  eye?  ^ 


POEMS.  45 

Replete  with  every  blessing  well-pair'd  minds 
Find  in  a  constant  scene  of  mutual  love  ; 
An  unreserved  interchange  of  thought ; 
One  common  interest  and  one  common  faith ; 
The  union  form'd  in  youth  drawn  close  by  time.. 
Cemented  by  the  strong  parental  tie  ; 
Strengthened  by  duties  hitherto  unknown. 
Ah  !  what  a  mournful  change  !  Her  early  fate 
Has  brought  these  prospects  to  a  final  close ! 
No  dear  memento  of  their  union  left ; 
The  grave  receives  the  mother  and  the  son  ! 
What  cruel  pangs  must  rend  the  lover's  heart, 
When  the  sad  tidings  break  upon  his  ear! 
For  her  dear  sake  he  cultivates  the  wild,  ^ 

Improves  the  prospect  and  exerts  his  skill 

To  beautify  their  habitation  ; 

Still  wisely  blending  use  with  ornament, 
As  emblematic  of  her  well-turn'd  mind, 
And  undepraved  taste  to  nature  true. 
Perhaps  e'en  now,  unconscious  of  his  loss., 
He  waits  the  summons  to  attend  her  home, 
In  vain  he  waits,  in  vain  he  fondly  sighs, 
For  the  dear  object  of  his  fond  regard  ; 
To  share  with  him  the  fragrance  of  the  spring 
She  comes  no  more  !  The  solitary  seat 


46  POEMS. 

Takes  a  dark  tincture  from  the  master's  mind. 

Death,  in  derision  of  the  best-laid  plans 

Of  human  bliss,  dissolves  the  pleasing  dream : 

A  dream,  indeed,  if  this  vain  world  were  all. 

But  the  strong  eye  of  faith  can  pierce  the  cloud 

Which  veils  the  world  of  spirits  from  our  view, 

That  happy  region,  where  celestial  forms 

Bask  in  the  rays  of  uncreated  light 

Of  Godhead,  beaming  through  the  spotless  lamb. 

His  blessed  presence  there  illumes  and  fills 

With  such  a  sense  of  God's  unfathom'd  love, 

His  undeserved  mercy,  sovereign  grace 

As  passes  all  conception  here  below. 

There  separated  friends  again  unite  ; 

Or  rather  there's  th'  indissoluble  tie, 

Since  the  triumphant  church  and  militant 

Are  knit,  and  form  one  great  harmonious  whole. 


POEMS.  47 

A  SOLILOQUY. 

IS  fancy  dead  ?  Has  she  forgot  her  flights  ? 
Is  the  muse  tuneless  ?  Will  she  mount  no  more. 
And  raise  my  soul  on  sw eet  poetic  wings  ? 
Has  she  forgot  her  notes  ?  It  must  not  be  ; — 
These  notes  were  wont  to  sooth  my  soul  to  peace. 
When  sunk  in  anguish,  and  oppress'd  with  grief. 
Grief,  did  I  say  ?  Do  I  complain  of  grief  ? 
My  life  how  short !  that  life  how  pleasant  too, 
Compared  with  multitudes  who  sadly  pine 
From  year  to  year,  poor,  helpless  and  forlorn  ! 
\Vithout  the  tribute  of  one  pitying  tear ! 
Pity  them,  heav'n,  and  fix  their  hopes  on  thee! 
Do  I  complain  of  grief?   No;  rather  let 
My  grateful  heart  ascend  in  songs  of  praise, 
To  nature's  author  and  preserver  too  ; 
To  Him,  whose  bounty  liberally  supplies 
The  wants  of  all  his  creatures,  and  to  each 
With  care  paternal  gives  what  suits  them  best ; 
Still  ordering  all  things  for  the  general  good. 
Thou  gracious  source  of  happiness  and  life ! 
Fountain  of  every  blessing !  'tis  from  thec 


48  POEMS. 

The  various  streams  of  pleasure  take  their  rise, 
Which  flow  diffusing  health  and  gladness  round 
Through  all  creation's  channels 

0  !  condescending  goodness,  love  immense  ! 
Behold  !  the  meanest  insect,  moth  or  fly, 
This  earth  sustains,  is  not  forgot  by  thee, 
Tho'  trode  upon  and  crumbled  into  dust, 
By  man,  proud  man,  his  brother  of  the  clay. 
What  did  I  say  ?  A  worm,  a  moth,  a  fly  ? 
And  what  am  I  ?    What  my  original 

But  such  as  their's  ?    We  all  from  nothing  came. 
And  it  is  owing  to  distinguished  grace, 

1  stand  erected  thus,  and  thus  assay, 

In  strains  harmonious,  my  Creator's  praise ; 
And  thank  the  glorious  giver  for  his  gifts. 
And  I  will  thank  thee ;  yes,  I  will  rejoice 
In  all  the  kind  effusions  of  thy  love; 
For  all  conspire  to  raise  the  grateful  soul 

To  gratitude's  best  office  ; 

Acting  in  sweet  accordance  with  thy  will, 

But  conscious  of  my  weakness,  O  my  God  ! 

In  thee  I  trust,  to  thee  I  look  for  aid, 

To  execute  the  good  resolves  I  make : 

For  thou  alone  ail  inexhaustible ; 

Thy  magazines  of  strength  are  never  drained ; 


POEMS.  49 

Though  still  communicating,  ever  full. 
Thou  infinite  !  O  !  when  I  think  on  thee, 
The  great  idea  swells  my  little  soul ! 
Ye  angel-bands!  ye  ministers  of  light ! 
Ye  who  drink  deep  at  the  celestial  spring, 
Inhaling  wisdom  as  we  breathe  the  air  ! 
Say,  can  your  most  enlarg'd  capacities 

Take  in  his  va  it  idea  ? 

Can  you  comprehend  th'  incomprehensible. 

And  tell  us  what  it  is  to  be  a  God? 

No  :  that  is  more  than  finite  nature  can. 

To  us  his  nature  is  thus  far  reveal'd ; 

We  know  none  ever  trusted  him  in  vain. 

Then  keep  me,  Lord,  be  thou  my  sure  defence, 

Secure  me  in  the  hollow  of  thy  hand, 

And  make  me  not  an  outcast  from  thy  love  ; 

For  JESUS'  sake, — He  who  on  Calv'ry  bled, 

A  spotless  victim  altogether  pure, 

The  great  atoning  sacrifice  for  sin. 

And  did  he  bleed  ?    O !  what  transcendant  love ! 

What  matchless  goodness !    Did  the  Prince  of 

Peace, 

The  king  of  glory.  He  who  form'd  us  first 
In  happy  state  of  innocence  and  bliss, 
E 


50  POEMS. 

Become  the  victim  of  our  hapless  fall, 
And  die,  to  give  his  ruin'd  creatures  life  ! 

O !  could  the  muses  touch  the  highest  string, 
And  to  thy  praise  in  lofty  numbers  sing  ; 
If  I  could  catch  the  glowing  seraph's  fire, 
And  more  than  mortal  eloquence  acquire, 
Still  would  thy  goodness  far  transcend  my  praise : 
But  thou  wilt  not  disdain  the  feeble  lays. 
The  weak  effusions  of  that  spark  of  love, 
Which  thou  hast  kindled,  which  thou  canst  im 
prove. 

O !  blow  the  smoaking  flax  into  a  flame, 
Aspiring  to  the  source  from  whence  it  came ! 


THE  REDEEMER'S  GLORY. 


What  can  the  muse  a  richer  theme  afford 
Than  the  mysterious  person  of  our  Lord  ? 
But  let  her  here  with  reverence  enquire, 
And  dread  approaching  with  imhailow'd  fire 
Him  that  doth  in  his  double  name  comprise 
Both  the  true  Altar  and  the  Sacrifice. 


POEMS.  51 

As  God  he  could  not  suffer  loss  or  pains, 
Yet  God  to  wear  the  human  nature  deigns : 
And  in  such  intimate  relation  stood, 
As  gives  infinite  value  to  his  blood. 
The  influence  of  thy  spirit,  Lord,  impart ; 
liaise  my  conceptions,  and  enlarge  my  heart : 
Light,  heat,  and  strength  unto  my  soul  afford, 
From  the  exhaustless  treasures  of  thy  word. 
A  subject  so  extensive  and  sublime 
Calls  our  attention  to  the  birth  of  time  ; 
Before  the  planetary  worlds  were  known, 
Or  Angels  bow'd  before  the  eternal  throne  ; 
HE  wrho  is  in  and  of  himself  complete, 
The  glorious  point  where  all  perfections  meet ; 
Who,  from  a  past  eternity,  has  known 
Unbounded  being  in  himself  alone ; 
In  whose  all  comprehensive  mind  the  plan 
Of  systems  and  their  habitants  began : 
At  his  command,  omnipotent  and  wise, 
Unnumber'd  worlds  in  beauteous  order  rise  : 
Systems  in  systems  round  their  centre  roll : 
He  builds,  preserves,  and  animates  the  whole. 
From  him  all  thinking  beings  take  their  rise, 
However,  potent,  bountiful,  or  wise  : 


52  POEMS. 

From  him  at  first  we  came,  to  him  we  go  ; 

From  him  our  lives  and  all  our  comforts  flow : 

No  vail  from  his  omniscience  can  conceal : 

He  knows  whate'er  we  speak,  or  acty  or  feel : 

'Tis  he  who  is  and  was,  and  is  to  come ; 

Of  all  perfection  the  Eternal  Sum : 

The  glorious  founder  of  salvation's  plan, 

Its  great  accomplisher  as  God  and  man, 

O !  I  am  lost !  can  I  this  theme  explore ! 

I  cannot  comprehend,  but  must  adore ! 

How  vast  the  treasure  of  that  golden  mine^ 

Where  lies  all  riches  human  and  divine ! 

Our  blessed  Lord  in  dignity  excels ; 

In  him  "  the  fulness  of  the  Godhead  dwells. " 

The  highest  wrorship  he  may  justly  claim, 

Who  wears  the  everlasting  Father's  name ; 

In  essence  and  prerogative  the  same. 

As  God,  he  shines  not  with  reflected  rays, 

His  human  nature  sheds  abroad  the  blaze 

Of  his  divinity;  thus  God  is  known ; 

In  Chirst  the  brightness  of  his  glory  shown. 

Through  this  bless'd  medium,  life  and  truth  are 

giv'n; 
This  is  the  way,  the  certain  way  to  heav'n. 


POEMS.  55 

Since  the  beginning  the  true  light  has  shin'd ; 
But  what  avails  the  light,  when  men  are  blind? 
But  as  thy  gifts  are  perfect,  as  they're  free, 
Open  our  eyes,  O  Lord,  that  we  may  see. 
Blest  were  their  eyes  wrho  saw  the  genial  ray, 
The  first  faint  dawning  of  the  gospel-day. 
In  these  sweet  words  that  vital  beam  was  shed, 
*  The  woman's  seed  shall  bruise  the  serpent'shead*3 
These  words  the  first  believers'  faith  sustain'd. 
But  could  they  fathom  all  thesewords  contain'd  ? 
May  not  this  sentence  still  embosom  more 
Than  we  for  endless  ages  can  explore  ? 
Who  counts  the  treasures  in  the  gospel  field  ? 
Who  knows  what  fruit  the  tree  of.life  may  yield? 
Who  comprehends  our  blessed  Lord,  as  man? 
Then  who  can  his  infinite  nature  scan  ? 
Lord,  on  our  hearts  thy  beauteous  features  trace : 
Let  us  reflect  thy  image,  grace  for  grace, 
Yet  still  we  must  infinite  distance  feel : 
What's  the  impression  to  the  golden  sealj 
E  2 


54  POEMS. 


IN  MEMORY'OF  THE  LATE  GENERAL  HAMIL 
TON,    WHO  FELL  IN  A  DUEL    WITH    AARON 

BURR. 

WHY  Was  the  savage  custom  not  restrained, 
Before  our  country's  choicest  blood  was  drain'd  ? 
Did  not  the  veins  of  HAMILTON  supply, 
For  the  unconscious  earth,  too  rich  a  dye  ? 
Ah  !  wherefore  did  he  bleed  in  such  a  cause  ? 
Here  every  thinking  mind  must  make  a  pause ! 
What  pity  that  a  genius  so  sublime, 
Should  be  abus'd  by  sanctioning  a  crime  ! 
But  who  can  paint  the  delicate  deceit, 
That  warp'd  a  mind  so  gen'rous  and  so  great  ? 
With  arguments  more  plausible  than  fair, 
The  subtil  tempter  gilds  the  fatal  snare. 
She  says,  ic  You  must  your  influence  resign, 
"  Or  offer  incense  at  my  bloody  shrine." 
Sound  principles  to  false  opinions  bend, 
Or  hopes  of  future  usefulness  must  end. 
Retrograde  reasoning  this,  of  which  the  sum 
Is,  "  Let's  do  evil,  haply  good  may  come," 


POEMS.  55 

Alas!  there's  no  perfection  here  below; 
E'en  virtues  in  excess  to  vices  grow- 
No  human  merit  paves  the  way  to  heaven ; 
The  best  of  men  have  much  to  be  forgiven* 
But  he  was  spar'd  his  error  to  deplore ; 
He  own'd  his  folly,  what  could  man  do  more  ? 
Yet  with  one  failing  in  so  great  a  mind, 
Alas !  how  many  evils  are  combined ! 
His  talents  were  so  various  and  so  great, 
His  death's  a  serious  evil  to  the  state. 
Political  debate  my  muse  disclaims, 
I  know  no  party,  nor  no  party  names ; 
What's  right  or  wrong  I  don't  pretend  to  tell, 
But  from  my  heart  I  wish  my  country  well : 
Yet  this  I  know,  a  spirit  so  diffuse, 
So  rais'd  'bove  selfishness  or  partial  views, 
A  strong  capacious  scrutinizing  mind, 
With  strict  integrity  of  heart  combin'd, 
Must  be  a  jewel  worthy  more  renown 
Than  that  which  dropp'dfrom  Scotia'sfated  crown, 
Ah !  fatal  moment,  inauspicious  day, 
When  such  a  precious  life  was  thrown  away  ! 
In  his  profession  too,  surpass'd  by  none, 
His  talents  and  his  virtues  jointly  shone. 


56  POEMS. 

The  plain  and  lucid  path  of  truth  he  chose ; 

His  eloquence  from  solid  reason  flows : 

Sconiing,to  cultivate  the  sophist's  art, 

He  look'd,  he  spoke,  he  acted,  from  the  heart. 

He  studied  well  the  spirit  of  the  laws  ; 

While  some  perplex  a  clear,  he  clears  the  darkest 

cause,. 

Justness  in  dealing  ever  must  appear 
The  brighest  ornament  in  any  sphere. 
But  where  the  trial's,  great,  the  man  must  rise 
To  overcome  ity  'bove  the  common  size. 
Inflexible  integrity  must  draw 
A  glorious  circle  round  the  man  of  law. 
HAMILTON'S  care  his  contracts  to  fulfil 
Is  legibly  impressed  on  his  will. 
Firmness  and  intrepidity  of  soul 
Among  the  heroes  must  his  name  enrol. 
The  friend  of  WASHINGTON,  illustrious  name  I 
A  sharer  in  his  dangers  and  his  fame : 
Like  him  intended  as  a  polar-star, 
To  give  direction  both  in  peace  and  war. 
Where  is  the  man,  who  rising  in  his  stead, 
Shall  prove  the  seeds  of  valour  are  not  dead  ? 
In  this  one  word  I  purpose  to  comprise 
Talents  to  execute  and  to  devise ;, 


POEMS,  57 

Whatever  briliant  qualities  must  meet, 

To  make  the  military  chief  complete. 

Think  not  I  love  to  view  the  hero's  scar ; 

I  shrink  with  horror  at  the  thought  of  war. 

War  springs  from  the  depravity  of  man, 

'Tis  duelling  upon  a  larger  plan. 

Let  wild  ambition,  or  let  avVice  guide 

Th'  infuriate  sons  of  violence  and  pride, 

To  blood  and  carnage ;  the  true  hero  stands 

Wise  in  his  counsels,  just  in  his  demands  : 

The  steady  vigor  qf  his  upright  soul, 

Brings  rude  invaders  under  due  controul; 

Bids  scenes  of  terror  and  destruction  cease : 

Thus  proper  courage  settles  lasting  peace. 

Thine  was,  O  HAMILTON  !  a  glorious  work, 

Great  thy  achievements  in  the  field  of  York. 

A  bloodless  conquest!  Mercy  stoop'd  and  smil'd 

To  see  the  fiend  of  war  so  nicely  foil'd. 

Benevolent  spirits  hover  in  the  air  ; 

The  fiend  and  black  attendants  disappear. 

But  the  grim  presence  darkens  all  around, 

Where  the  great  chief  lies  prostrate  on  the  ground ! 

Yet  mercy  still  prevails,  her  lenient  hand 

Brightens  the  scene,  while  the  infernal  band 


58  POEMS. 

Again  are  foil'd  ;  for  time  is  kindly  given, 

And  spent,  we  trust,  in  making  peace  with  heaven. 

But,  O  my  country !  who  can  cease  to  mourn, 

To  see  thy  choicest  pillars  rudely  torn 

From  'neath  thy  pond'rous  weight  ?  To  heaven 

we  call, 

To  fill  those  breaches  and  prevent  thy  fall. 
From  this  same  stock  may  future  patriots  rise, 
Statesmen  and  heroes  in  these  orphan  boys. 
Yet  still  this  recent  loss  we  must  deplore ! 
Thy  pride,  thy  boast,  thy  H A  M  i  L  x  o  N  's  no  more ! 
What  his  bereaved  family  sustain, 
His  finished  character  can  best  explain. 
See  !  four  sweet  boys  in  sable  vestments  clad, 
With  four  fair  girls  by  their  pale  mother  led, 
Move  heavily  the  dull  domestic  round  ! 
No  more  they  hear  that  animating  sound. 
The  husband's,  father's  voice  !     A  silent  gloom 
Clouds  every  object,  darkens  every  room. 
This  is  no  solemn  mockeiy  of  woe  ; 
There  lies  a  grief  within  which  passes  show. 
To  heaven  she  bows  with  reverence  profound  ; 
While  fancy  still  presents  his  ghastly  wound, 
She  too  is  wounded  in  the  tenderest  part, 
The  fatal  bullet  rankles  at  her  heart. 


POEMS.  59 

O  that  he  had  his  principles  maintain'd, 

And  the  reproach  of  honour's  fools  disdain'd ! 

And  was  a  man  so  much,  so  justly  priz'd, 

To  a  delusive  phantom  sacrific'd? 

Rouse,  rouse  Columbia!  ev'ry  power  combine. 

Pull  down  the  idol  and  destroy  her  shrine  : 

Expose  th'  impostor,  break  the  cruel  snare ; 

By  proving  real  honour  ne'er  was  there. 

'Tis  time  such  gross  idolatry  should  cease, 

Such  daring  insults  to  the  God  of  Peace. 


REFLECTIONS, 


TIR'D  of  the  world,  and  all  its  vain  parade, 
I  seek  for  shelter  in  the  friendly  shade: 
The  world's  gay  visionary  scenes  may  please, 
And  yield  amusement,  to  a  mind  at  ease  ; 
But  they're  ill  suited  to  a  heart  like  mine ; 
A  heart  that  would  its  hopes  and  fears  resign  ; 
Break  loose  from  earth,  cut  thro'  the  various  ties, 
That  bind  the  soul  to  these  uncertain  joys* 


60  POEMS; 

For  I  have  proved  and  I  have  found  them  vain  j 

The  fruitful  source  of  many  a  bitter  pain ; 

As  vain  as  shadows  which  delude  the  sight; 

As  transient  as  the  visions  of  the  night. 

But  here  a  cheering  thought  must  intervene  : 

Without  a  substance,  there's  no  shadow  seen : 

To  gain  that  substance  be  my  future  care, 

Nor  longer  vainly  grasp  at  empty  air. 

Ye  unsubstantial  vanities,  adieu  ! 

Forever,  now,  I  turn  my  eyes  from  you. 

Celestial  happiness,  be  thou  my  aim. 

But  how  shall  I  attain  the  precious  gem? 

How  shall  this  sinking  soul  ascend  the  skies  ? 

Or  howr  secure  the  bright  immortal  prize  ? 

Oh!  slave  of  folly,  vanity  and  sin! 

What  an  unweeded  garden  lies  within! 

And  dar'st  thou,  then,  without  some  potent  cure. 

Approach  a  God,  so  powerful,  and  so  pure  ? 

Much  of  a  Mediator  I  have  heard ; 

And  in  his  name  my  suit  have  oft  preferred ; 

But  have  I  ever  been  divinely  taught 

To  seek  this  free  salvation,  as  I  ought  ? 


POEMS.  61 


LlNES  ADDRESSED   TO  MRS.  H N. 


ALAS  !  how  transient  every  earthly  good ! 
How  soon  dissolv'd  the  nearest  ties  of  blood ! 
Already  is  your  sweet  Maria  gone, 
Already  landed  on  a  coast  unknown  : 
To  us  unknown ;  but  she  can  now  explore 
What  only  faith  could  realize  before. 
The  conflict  now  is  o'er — her  race  is  run ; 
To  her  a  long  eternity's  begun : 
Thro'  Christ,  I  trust,  she  has  the  victory  won?- 
O'er  sin  and  death :  then  the  cold  grave  must  prove 
An  easy  bed,  all  curtain'd  round  with  love. 
Still,  it  is  hard  to  part  with  one  so  near, 
With  the  sweet  object  of  maternal  care. 
Beneath  your  eye  the  beauteous  virgin  grew, 
And  from  your  breast  her  early  sustenance  drew. 
Nor  doth  her  sire  a  tie  less  binding  feel : 
The  manly  tear  he  labours  to  conceal, 
Which  from  his  eyes  the  parting  struggle  drew ; 
He  needs  the  kind  support  he  offers  you, 

F 


62  POEMS. 

See  !  by  her  bed  a  mournful  group  appears, 

Speechless  with  grief,  and  all  dissolved  in  tears  ! 

Let  this  sad  scene  impress  the  solemn  truth, 

'Tis  vain  to  trust  to  beauty  or  to  youth. 

These  tears  need  not  be  shed,  if  these  could  save 

The  privileged  possessor  from  the  grave. 

A  belter  life  let's  labour  to  secure, 

And  make  our  "  calling  and  election  sure." 

Oh !  happy  they,  who,  in  their  early  prime, 

Are  fully  ripen'd  for  a  higher  clime  ; 

Who  leave  this  world,  and  all  its  tempting  snares, 

Its  short-liv'd  pleasures,  and  its  hurrying  cares. 

Soon  as  the  fleshly  clog  is  left  behind, 

Th*  enfranchised  spirit  rises  unconfin'd 

To  the  eternal  source,  from  whence  it  sprung  : 

For  such  a  glorious  change  there's  none  too  young. 

Oh !  my  sweet  cousin,  it  is  thine  to  trace 

The  height  and  depth,  and  breadth,  of  saving 

grace. 

'Tis  ours  to  mourn  ;  but  thine,  in  sweet  amaze, 
To  join  with  angels  in  their  songs  of  praise  ; 
To  grateful  love,  thro*  free  salvation's  plan, 
To  feel  a  stronger  tie  than  angels  can. 


POEMS.  63 

To  MR.  H D. 


ACCEPT  these  sympathetic  lines,  from  one 
Who  feels  your  grief,  and  shares  in  every  groan; 
Who  sees  your  sorrow  preying  on  your  heart, 
And  pitying  feels  the  tender  husband's  smart. 
Of  his  soul's  treasure  robb'd,  the  partner  dear 
Who  shar'd  his  every  hope,  his  every  fear  ; 
Fitted  to  smooth  the  rugged  path  of  life ; 
The  fondest  mother,  and  the  tend'rest  wife. 
Each  modest  virtue  triumphed  in  her  mind  ; 
Expressive  meekness  on  her  aspect  shin'd. 
Then  cease  to  weep,  Oh!  dry  that  piteous  tear  ! 
Thy  sainted  wife  now  fills  a  higher  sphere. 
We've  cause  to  hope,  she  now  is  bless'd  above, 
In  full  fruition  of  redeeming  love. 


O  GRACIOUS  Father  !  listen  to  my  prayer; 
Look  from  thy  heaven — in  pity  deign  to  hear  ! 
See !  Hammond's  daughter  struggling  for  her  life. 
The  dear  resemblance  of  a  much  lov'd  wife! 


64  POEMS. 

Bound  to  the  heart  by  various  tender  ties. 
The  source  and  centre  of  his  earthly  joys  ; 
Bound  by  affliction  :  Oh !  mysterious  heaven, 
Why  was  this  pledge  of  fond  affection  given  ! 
If  death  so  soon  must  strike  the  fatal  blow  : 
Oh!  grief  of  griefs !  Oh!  woe  surpassing  woe ! — 
5Tis  past — our  hopes  and  fears  are  at  an  end  : 
The  daughter  of  my  fair  departed  friend, 
The  sweetest  babe — Oh !  what  resistless  grace 
Shone  in  her  eyes,  and  blossom'd  in  her  face  ! 
She  look'd,  as  born  to  sooth  the  brow  of  care, 
To  stop  the  sigh,  and  kiss  away  the  tear ; 
The  anguish  of  a  father  to  assuage, 
And  be  a  comfort  to  her  grand-dam's  age : 
But  now,  alas !  the  pleasing  prospect  ends ! 
Yet  heaven  perhaps  a  greater  good  intends. 
May4iap,  this  blow — this  heart- felt  blow,  is  given, 
To  wean  from  earth  and  fit  the  soul  for  heaven. 


POEMS,  65 


COMPOSED  BY  THE  AUTHORESS  ON  PASSING 

BY   THE   PLACE   OF    HER   NATIVITY. 


YE  antient  shades,  whose  cool  retreats, 
Have  screen'd  me  from  the  mid-day  heats  ; 
Where  I've  enjoy 'd  the  balmy  breeze, 
And  mark'd  the  growth  of  rising  trees ; 
(Co-eval  plants  with  me  they  grew) 
Adieu,  ye  early  friends,  adieu ! 
Ye  flowery  meads,  and  sunny  hills — 
The  broader  stream  and  lesser  rills, 
Whose  banks  my  footsteps  oft  have  press  'd, 
While  the  sweet  muse  inspired  my  breast, — 
Farewell  to  every  native  sweet ! 
Each  pleasant  walk,  and  mossy  seat ! 
But  memory  still-shall-  hold  you  dear ; 
And  fancy  fondly  \vander  here. 
Here  rural  groups  were  often  seen. 
In  social  parties  trip  the  green ; 
Or  seek  the  fountain's  grassy  side, 
To  view  its  silver  current  glide  ; 
F2 


66  POEMS. 

There  the  fond  lover  told  his  tale, 

Mixing  with  sighs  the  passing  gale  ; 

While,  in  her  breast,  the  tender  rnaid 

Records  his  looks  and  all  he  said. 

Yon  meadow  cloath'd  in  vernal  bloom, 

That  scents  the  air  with  sweet  perfume. 

Brings  to  my  mind  the  sultry  day ; 

The  rake,  the  hay-fork,  and  the  hay. 

When  wearied  I  have  ta'en  my  ease, 

Reclin'd  beneath  yon  spreading  trees  ; 

Or  sought  a  shelter  from  the  rain, 

Then  rose,  and  ply'd  my  work  again, 

In  yonder  hedge  obscur'd  from  view? 

The  luscious  berry  wildly  grew  ; 

Mix'd  with  sweet  flowers,  thatdeck'd  the  waste 

Regaling  both  the  sight  and  taste. 

Ah !  happy  scenes  of  early  days, 


Of  infant  smiles,  and  childish  plays  ! 
My  father's  house>  my^re^ser^  lands — 
Those  fields  w^re  cultured  by  his  hands  ; 
That  house  his  presence  once  adom'd ; 
And  there  his  heavy  loss  I  mourn'd. 
There  the  young  muses  spread  their  wings,. 
And  soar'd  above  terrestrial  things; 


POEMS.  ef 

'Twas  there  they  made  their  first  essays, 

To  warble  the  Creator's  praise ; 

And  strove,  but  oh,  how  vainly  strove  ! 

To  paint  the  wonders  of  his  love ; 

The  name  of  Jesus  to  rehearse, 

That  sweetest  sound,  in  prose  or  verse. 

To  JUNIUS,  WITH  YOUNG'S  NIGHT  THOUGHTS. 


THRICE  have  I  read  this  precious  volume  o'er, 
Still  gathering  wisdom  from  the  heavenly  lore. 
The  best  instruction's  in  these  pages  given ; 
They  lead  the  soul  to  piety  and  heaven. 
Delightful  book !  with  every  beauty  fraught ! 
Justness  of  judgment,  energy  of  thought, 
Breathe  through  each  line,  with  such  devotion 

fir'd, 

As  speaks  a  muse  by  heaven  itself  inspired. 
Here  sorrow  is  so  movingly  expressed, 
Pity  and  admiration  fill  the  breast : 
We  love  a  woe  so  tender  and  refirul, 
Which  thus  exalts^  and  purifies  the  mind* 


68  POEMS. 

But  while  the  muses  mournfully  complain, 
And  all  the  soul  is  sunk  in  tender  pain, 
The  CONSOLATION  beams  a  ray  divine  ; 
The  clouds  disperse  and  heavenly  beauties  shine ; 
The  soul  is  wrapt  in  wonder  and  delight ; 
We  grow  enamour'd  with  the  face  of  night ; 
We  trace  the  glowing  poet  through  the  skies, 
And  strive  to  catch  his  spirit  as  he  flies. 


ANOTHER  TO    THE  SAME, 

OFT  times  I  leave  the  busy  throng, 
Some  hours  with  thee  to  spend  ; 

And  fancied  converse  oft  prolong, 
With  a  far  distant  friend. 

No  common  words  employ  my  breath, 
When  I  converse  with  thee  ,- 

We  talk  of  time,  of  life,  and  death, 
And  immortality. 

My  soul,  your  active  soul  to  trace, 
Could  leave  this  frame  behind ; 

And  wander  to  a  distant  place, 
To  seek  a  Kindred  mind. 


POEMS.  69 


Say,  must  I  seek  among  the  stars. 
Those  glorious  worlds  above  ? 

Say,  are  you  lifted  to  the  spheres, 
On  wings  of  heavenly  love? 

In  vain  I  strive  to  reach  the  height 

Of  your  superior  mind  ; 
You  vanish  from  my  aching  sight, 

And  leave  me  far  behind. 

If  you  by  faith  have  strength  to  rise 

To  the  divine  abode ; 
Oh !  bring  us  tidings  from  the  skies, 

And  point  the  heavenly  road. 


SACRED  TO  THE  MEMORY   OF  MR.  W.  W — . 

HERE  is  no  cause  for  agonizing  tears; 
Sweet  comfort  mingles  with  the  drops  that  flow : 

Long  has  he  bended  'neath  a  load  of  years ; 
Long  has  he  sigh'd  for  human  guilt  and  woe : 

To  see  mankind  reduc'd  to  such  a  pass, 
Unheeding  sabbaths,  sermons,  prayer,  and  praise, 

Drew  from  his  bosom  many  a  sad  alas ! 
And  much  embitter'd  his  declining  days. 


70  POEMS. 

To  mark  the  prevalance  of  unbelief, 
That  baleful  spawn  of  ignorance  and  pride, 

Oft  deeply  touch'd  his  feeling  heart  with  grief, 
To  hear  his  God  dishonored  and  denied. 

Inthee,  East  Pennsbro',  I  receiv'dmy  birth; 
For  thee  I  still  a  filial  fondness  feel ; 

Oh !  may  the  sovereign  Lord  of  heav'n  and  earth 
Renew  thy  beauties,  thy  "  backslidings  heal!" 

Now  antient  Christians  sleep  beneath  the  sod; 
O  Lord  renew  their  spirit  in  their  race  ; 

Teach  them  to  know  and  serve  their  fathers' 

God ; 
Teach  them  in  thee  their  confidence  to  place. 

Now  dire  diseases  rage  throughout  the  land; 
Friend  after  friend  we  follow  to  the  grave ! 

Teach  us  the  warning  voice  to  understand. 
And  own  thee  mighty  to  destroy  or  save. 

But  now,  O  muse,  returning  to  thy  theme, 
Speak  of  the  virtues  which  adorn'd  his  breast : 

But  can  the  muse  describe  the  sacred  flame 
Which  that  deserted  tenement  possess 'd! 

A  warm  benev'lence,  whichnotage  could  freeze, 
Glow'd  in  his  soul,  and  shall  forever  glow  ; 

Sin  to  his  view  appear'd  the  worst  disease, 
The  woe  of  woes,  vile  sourse  of  every  woe. 


POEMS.  71 

Long  had  he  prov'd  the  matrimonial  state, 
Still  happy  with  the  partner  of  his  yoilth; 

Bless'd  with  a  fellow-christian,  in  his  mate, 
A  fellow-witness  for  the  God  of  truth. 

The  children  of  his  children  now  arise, 
Blessing  with  filial  gratitude  his  name. 

And  well  they  may  so  good  a  father  prize; 
On  all  his  race  he  has  the  tenderest  claim. 

May  not  he  now  his  much.lov'd*  daughter  meet ; 
Tho'  far  divided  lie  the  kindred  clay  ? 

May  not  their  sainted  spirits  kindly  greet, 
In  the  bright  morning  of  an  endless  day  ? 

*  Mrs.  Reed, 


To  MRS.  M- 


I  SEE  your  sorrow — I  behold,  in  vain 
You  try  your  bitter  anguish  to  restrain. 
Amiable  mourner  I  your  grief  revere ; 
I'd  gladly  wipe,  but  cannot  blame  the  tear  ; 
It  steals  unbidden  from  a  mother's  eye, 
Which  us'd  to  glisten  with  maternal  joy  ; 


72  POEMS. 

When  the  sweet  babe  you  held  within  your  arms, 
And  gaz'd,  with  rapture,  on  his  op'ning  charms. 
But  think,  my  friend,  tho'  of  one  joy  bereft, 
What  a  resource  of  comfort  still  is  left. 
You  still  are  with  a  worthy  husband  bless'd  ; 
You  still  can  lean  on  his  supporting  breast, 
Open  your  sorrows,  tell  him  all  your  mind, 
And  m  his  converse  consolation  find. 
A  sweet  reward,  a  surer  prop  is  given  : 
Lean,  lean,  my  friend,  on  all-supporting  heaven. 
Children  may  die,  a  husband  may  expire, 
Ev'n  earth  itself  shall  be  consum'd  by  fire  : 
On  uncreated  excellence  depend  ; 
And  make  thyself  a  sure  eternal  friend. 


To  PHEBE. 


IN  fancy  I  have  soughtthee  in  the  shade, 
And  wander 'd  with  thee  o'er  the  sunny  glade ; 
With  thee  I  on  a  mossy  bank  recline, 
And  mix  my  notes,  my  very  soul  with  thine, 


POEMS.  73 

Shall  I  the  feelings  of  my  heart  repress  ? 
Or  can  you  pardon  this  abrupt  address  ? 
My  offer'd  love  I  know  you'll  not  refuse : 
To  me  you  wear  the  aspect  of  a  muse  ; 
Yet  the  sweet  cadence  of  your  flowing  lines 
The  blameless  tenor  of  your  life  out-shines. 
'Tis  the  report  of  this  my  bosom  warms ; 
'Tis  this  gives  wrorth  to  intellectual  charms. 
Demons  are  dark,   tho'  with  great  powers  en- 

dow'd; 

But  Angels  shine,  for  they're  both  wise  and  good. 
Must  tedious  rules  our  commerce  regulate  ? 
Must  I  a  formal  introduction  wait  ? 
Life  is  but  short,  the  rapid  moments  fly 
In  swift  succession ;  we  but  breathe  and  die. 
A  generous  friendship  scarce  has  time  to  warm 
The  human  heart,  till  death  dissolves  the  charm. 
But  there  are  fields  of  light,  ethereal  plains, 
Where  boundless  joy,  where  endless  pleasure 

reigns : 

Where  the  free  soul  extends  its  various  powers, 
To  greater  heights,  than  mortal  fancy  soars : 
Where  heavenly  minds  the  sweetest   concord 

know, 

And  heights  of  friendship  uncoi^ceiv'd  below : 
G         \ 


74  POEMS. 

While  some  perhaps  their  endless  union  date, 
In  the  dim  morning  of  this  embryo  state. 
Oh !    May  we  meet  upon  those  happy  plains ! 
And  there  unite  in  never  ceasing  strains. 


To  ALVIRA. 


FRIEND  of  my  soul,  thou  nearest  tp  my  heart, 
Part  of  myself — almost  my  dearest  part ; 
What  can  I  write?  what  language  can  I  use  ? 
To  soften  grief,  or  one  sweet  smile  diffuse, 
On  that  dear  face,  where  melancholy's  gloom, 
Has  cropt  the  roses  in  their  vernal  bloom  ? 
I  see,  I  feel,  I  count  thy  numerous  wrongs, 
Thou  hapless  victim  of  malicious  tongues : 
Not  virgin  innocence  secures  thy  fame ; 
Tho'  unprotected  youth  might  some  indulgence 

claim. 

Look  up,  my  friend,  to  heaven  direct  thine  eyes ; 
A  brighter  prospect  opens  in  the  skies ! 
Secure  a  place  iu  that  divine  abode, 
And  tread  the  path  our  blessed  Saviour  trode* 


POEMS.  75 

Patient  in  suffering,  ready  to  forgive, 
Resign'd  to  heaven,  in  meek  complacence  live ; 
And  look  to  God  for  those  divine  supplies 
Of  comfort,  which  an  envious  world  denies. 
Trust  not  to  man  in  all  his  flower  and  pride ; 
Tho'  truth  and  honour  in  his  breast  reside  : 
His  breath  is  in  his  nostrils ;  now  he's  thine  ; 
And  now  perhaps  thou  must  to  death  resign 
Him  who  so  lately  all  thy  soul  possess'd, 
And  took  the  place  of  God  within  thy  breast. 
Oh !  Junius,  noble,  generous,  and  sincere, 
At  thought  of  thee  I  can't  restrain  the  tear ! 
To  think  how  many  circumstances  join, 
To  rend  a  heart  so  great  and  good  as  thine ; 
A  heart  that's  fraught  with  duty  to  thy  sire, 
Warm'd  by  love's  gentlest  and  most  fervent  fire : 
Love,  duty,  interest,  hold  continual  strife ; 
It  bleeds  to  wound  the  parent,  or  the  wife. 
What  but  religion's  soul-sustaining  power, 
Could  comfort  thee  in  this  distressful  hour ! 
But  thou  hast  felt  its  influence,  thou  hast  known 
A  present  God,  and  claim'd  him  for  thy  own. 
Be  stedfast  still,  thy  constancy  maintain ; 
Thus  thou  advis'dst,  and  I  return  again 


76  POEMS. 

The  same  advice ;  'tis  friendship's  best  employ, 
T'  encourage  in  the  way  to  endless  joy. 
And  thou,  Alvira,  partner  of  his  life, 
His  earthly  treasure,  his  elected  wife, 
From  the  same  source  thy  consolation  bring ; 
Drink  deeply  at  the  same  eternal  spring ; 
In  his  best  pursuits  with  thy  Junius  join, 
And  make  his  noblest  entertainment  thine. 


SACRED  TO  THE  MEMORY  or  MRS.  S.  M . 


WHILE  true  benevolence  has  power  to  raise 
Grateful  emotions  in  the  human  mind ; 

How  many  hearts  must  vibrate  at  her  praise, 
Who  knew,  by  sweet  experience,  she  was  kind  ! 

Unto  the  poor  the  muses  may  appeal, 
Who  in  her  substance  did  so  largely  share  ; 

Her  kind  attentions  these  must  ever  feel, 
Must  own  her  bounty,  and  her  tender  care  : 


POEMS.  77 

Their  nurse  in  sickness,   and  in  doubts  their 

guide, 
In  all  extremities  a  certain  friend ; 

For  unrestrained  by  indolence  or  pride, 
To  rich  and  poor  her  goodness  did  extend. 

Her  time,  her  health,  her  talents,  were  em- 
ploy'd 

In  active  services  to  human  kind- 
She's  gone,  alas !  and  what  a  dreary  void, 

A  mournful  vacuum,  has  she  left  behind  ! 

But,  through  the  bounty  of  indulgent  heaven, 
Her  spirit  is  transfus'd  into  her  race  ; 

To  whom  a  more  enlarged  sphere  is  given ; 
A  larger  heart  no  frame  did  e'er  embrace. 


ON  THE  DEATH  OF  MRS.  S.  T- 


'TIS  the  sigh  of  parting  nature : 
Gently  she  resigns  her  breath  ! 

How  compos'd  is  every  feature,, 
Placed  in  the  arms  of  death ! 
G  2 


78  POEMS. 

Now  the  mourner  is  released 
From  a  world  of  sin  and  woes, 

Where  her  tender  heart  was  pierced 
By  many  deep  and  bitter  throes. 

Fair  and  cloudless  rose  her  morning ; 
Love  and  joy  their  influence  spread ; 

But  her  noon  was  spent  in  mourning 
O'er  the  dying  and  the  dead. 

First  she  wept  a  separation 
From  her  kind  and  faithful  mate  ; 

But  derived  consolation, 
In  her  lonely  widow'd  state, 

From  the  duty  and  affection 
Of  a  fair  and  virtuous  race  : 

To  give  their  minds  a  right  direction, 
And  improve  each  native  grace, 

Furnish'd  laudable  employment 
To  engage  the  passing  hours : 

'Twas  both  duty  and  enjoyment 
To  draw  forth  their  latent  powers. 

Now  she  sees  them  flourish  round  her, 
Lovely,  innocent,  and  gay  ; 

Think  what  cruel  pangs  must  wound  her 
To  behold  their  breathless  clay  ! 


POEMS.  79 

In  the  space  of  five  short  years 
'Twas  her  lot  to  bury  four  : 

Scarcely  had  she  dri'd  her  tears, 
Till  DEATH  demands  one  victim  more ! 

Hard's  the  heart  that  is  not  moved 
For  a  mother  so  bereft. 

Of  seven  daughters  dearly  loved 
Two,  alas  !  is  all  that's  left  ! 

In  despair  she  never  raved, 
Nor  let  her  grief  to  wildness  run — 

Of  my  children  I'm  bereaved 
Let  our  Father's  will  be  done  ; 

Seem'd  to  be  the  silent  language 
Of  her  exercised  soul : 

Struggling  to  suppress  her  anguish, 
Down  her  cheek  the  tear  did  roll. 

Oh !  how  short's  this  mortal  story  ! 
Soon  the  longest  life  must  close. 

Lo,  the  brightest  human  glory 
Disappears  like  melting  snows ! 

Yet  this  fugitive  existence 
Can  engrossihe  human  mind : 

O  !  what  fatal  inconsistence 
Both  to  see  and  to  be  blind  ! 


SO  POEMS. 

Now  we  see  some  fellow-creature 
Trembling  on  the  fatal  brink  ; 

The  last  pangs  of  struggling  nature 
Forces  thoughtlessness  to  think. 

But  too  oft  these  good  impressions 
Passing  trifles  quick  efface ; 

While  with  multiplied  transgressions 
We  fill  up  the  little  space, 

'Twixt  the  present  and  that  hour 
When  we  too  must  meet  the  foe. 

Oh !  may  Christ  disarm  his  power 
And  his  malice  overthrow  ! 

He's  the  source  of  every  blessing  ; 
Saves  from  sin  as  well  as  wrath ; 

Conquering  sin,  and  grace  increasing, 
Draws  the  poisonous  sting  from  death. 


POEMS.  81 

OUR  HELPER, 


MY  soul,  no  longer  cleave  to  dust, 
But  raise  thy  drooping  wing  ; 

In  thy  Creator  place  thy  trust, 
To  him  thy  sorrows  bring* 

Can  reasoning  heal  the  wounded  mind  ! 

Alas  !  it  puzzles  more  ; 
But  God  the  broken  heart  can  bind, 

And  ruiiVd  peace  restore. 

'Tis  he,  can  teach  thee  thy  disease, 
And  best  prescribe  a  cure  ; 

He  sets  the  labouring  soul  at  ease  ; 
And  makes  the  vitals  pure. 

No  more,  my  rebel  heart,  withstand 

All  that  is  great  and  good  : 
Has  he  not  form'd  thee  with  his  hand, 

And  bought  thee  with  his  blood  ? 

Be  still,  my  beating  heart,  be  still  ; 

Let  thy  affections  flow  ; 
And  govern'd  by  his  sovereign  will, 

On  God  thy  love  bestow. 


82  POEMS. 


WHAT  mournful  sound  assails  the  ear ! 
It  melts  my  soul — what  do  I  hear  ! 
Amanda's  fate,  Amanda's  doom, 
Her  early  summons  to  the  tomb  I 

Morning  saw  the  fair  one  rise, 
Warm  with  life ;  her  beauteous  eyes 
Shed  their  beams,  yet  all  the  while. 
Death  lay  ambush'd  in  a  smile. 

Soon  she  joins  the  youthful  train^ 
Sweetly  swells  the  vocal  strain ; 
On  musick's  wings  their  praises  rise, 
A  grateful  offering  to  the  skies  ; 

But  ah  !  how  sad  a  change  appears  ! 
A  deadly  shriek  assails  their  ears ; 

A  heartfelt  groan,  a  piercing  cry  ;- 

Amanda !  stop,  you  must  not  die ! 

See,  the  colour  leaves  her  face ; 
Life's  flecl  away,  with  every  grace  ; 
That  lovely  form,  which  charm'd  our  eyes3 
Cold  and  inanimate  now  lies  ! 


POEMS.  83 


See  the  virgins  speechless  stand ; 
See  her  friend  with  trembling  hand 
Close  in  death  those  radiant  eyes  : 
Unwarn'd,  alas !  Amanda  dies  ! 


To  MARIA  M- 


WHERE  are  you  gone,  my  dear  Maria,  where? 

In  distant  lands  you  breathe  a  different  air. 

But,  in  the  steady  tenor  of  your  mind, 

Unchanged  in  love,  unalterably  kind, 

You  say,  nor  length  of  time,  nor  change  of  place, 

Shall  the  idea  from  your  mind  erase, 

Of  the  sweet  social  hours,  whose  loss  we'mourn; 

Blest  hours,  that  never,  never,  must  return. 


84  POEMS. 

COMPOSED  ON  THE  BANKS  OF  CONODO- 
GUINET. 


WHILE,  underneath  this  salutary  shade, 
My  hands  perform  their  duty,  O,  my  mind, 

Be  not  inactive  ;  let  it  not  be  said, 

A  spark  from  heav'n,  to  sloth  should  be  inclin'd 

Remember  thy  illustrious  descent  ; 

And  who  first  kindled  this  immortal  flame  : 
Thus  upwards  ever  should  thy  thoughts  be  benl 

Toward  the  eternal  source  from  whence   yoi 
came. 


These  hands  with  soap  and  water  strive  to 
Those  outward  robes  from  each  polluting  stain 

Sure,  then,  the  soul  demands  superior  care  ; 
Shall  it  unwash'd,  unpurified,  remain  ! 

For  it  a  fount  is  op'd,  whose  crimson  stream 
Effects  this  glorious,  this  important  end  ; 

To  this  with  speed  apply,  nor  vainly  dream 
Of  other  aid  :  on  this  you  may  depend 


POEMS.  85 


ON  THE  DEATH  OF  MY  FATHER'S  SlSTERS, 
WHO  DIED  WITHIN  ONE  WEEK  OF  EACH 
OTHER  I  IN  TWO  PARTS. 


PART  FIRST. 

WHILE  shallow  riv'lets  bubble  as  they  flow, 
The  deeper  stream  glides  silently  along  ; 

'Twas  thus  through  life,    avoiding  outward 

show, 
She  pass'd,  unnoticed  by  the  busy  throng; 

But  valued  much  by  the  discerning  few, 
Who  knew,  and  could  appreciate  her  worth. 

Strong  were  her  intellects,  her  heart  was  true  ; 
But  all  these  gifts  were  shaded  while  on  earth : 

Through  life  she  labor'd  under  such  restraint, 
She  neither  looked  nor  spoke  up  to  her  mind ; 

But  when  the  hidden  fountain  found  a  vent, 
Her  converse  was  both  solid  and  refinM. 

In  all  the  trials  of  this  changeful  life, 
Her  patience  was  invariably  strong; 

For  had  her  mind  been  tost  with  jarring  strife., 
Her  fragile  frame  had  hardly  stood  so  long. 
H 


86  POEMS. 

But  now  relieved  from  its  house  of  clay, 
Her  soul,  I  trust,  finds  room  to  exercise ; 

And  mounting  upwards  t6  the  realms  of  day, 
Assumes  its  proper  figure,  shape,  and  size. 

PART  SECOND. 

OH  !  give  a  broader  channel  to  our  tears ! 
Now  fond  regret  is  mix'd  with  anxious  fears  ; 
One  sister  rising  on  the  wings  of  day, 
The  other's  spirit  strives  to  get  away 
From  its  poor  shatter'd  tenement,  which  wears 
Indubitable  marks  of  age  and  cares  : 
Well-order'd  cares  ;  for  in  a  widow'd  state, 
Her  faithful  heart  ne'er  sought  a  second  mate ; 
But  on  her  children  fix'd  its  fond  regard, 
And  in  their  duty  found  a  sweet  reward. 
She,  for  the  space  of  more  than  thirty  years, 
In  this  endearing  character  appears  : 
Now  full  of  days,  surrounded  by  her  friends 
And  weeping  offspring,  her  last  conflict  ends. 


POEMS.  87 


To  MY  SISTER. 


WHATEVER  could  in  infancy  engage, 

Or  promise  comfort  from  her  riper  age, 

Was  sweetly  blended  in  the  form  and  mind 

Of  her  you  lately  to  the  grave  consign'd  : 

Gay  as  the  birds,  which  hop  from  bough  to  bough ; 

Lovely  and  innocent,  as  aught  below. 

How  just  and  clear  her  first  ideas  rise  ! 

Ev'n  strangers  mark  her  with  a  fond  surprise  : 

Docile,  as  young,  but  wise  above  her  years, 

She  for  a  moment  shines,  and  disappears. 

With  gratitude  thy  maker's  bounty  trace  ; 

A  new  Maria  fills  the  vacant  place  : 

May  this  sweet  babe  renew  thy  wither'd  joy, 

And  with  her  sister  in  her  temper  vie. 

In  her  young  mind  the  seeds  of  knowledge  sow;l 

Whate'er  is  good  let  her  be  taught  to  know  ;     p> 

Knowledge  of  evil  of  itself  will  grow.  J 

Our  general  mother  this  too  dearly  bought ; 

In  this,  alas  I  we're  all  too  fully  taught ! 


88  POEMS. 

Oh !  precious  babe,  for  thee  my  bosom  wanna 
With  pleasing  hopes,  and  beats  with  fond  alarms  I 
May  God  himself  instruct  thee,  how  to  choose, 
To  love  the  good,  the  evil  to  refuse: 
Preserve  thee,  till  thy  earthly  trial's  past, 
And  bring  thee  safely  to  himself  at  last. 
Hail !   highly-honour'd !  for  to  thee  is  given 
To  train  up  children  for  the  King  of  heaven. 
Yet  know  thy  post  is  dangerous — thus  it  stands  : 
Lost  through  neglect — then  surely  at  thy  hands 
Their  blood  shall  be  required — an  awful  thought ! 
'Tis  strange  that  this  should  ever  be  forgot ; 
?Tis  strange,  so  many  should  unfaithful  prove, 
Impell'd  at  once  by  fear,  and  drawn  by  love. 
Some  tender  mothers,  that  their  girls  may  charm. 
In  zeal  to  polish  quite  forget  to  form  : 
The  very  toyman  can't  proceed  so  fast ; 
His  mimic  fair  receive  their  varnish  last  : 
But  these,  enamour'd  of  external  grace,  ""J 

Give  it  the  first,  the  last,  the  middle  place  ;     ± 
They  vainly  decorate  an  empty  case,  J 

Or  worse  than  empty ;  for  the  busy  mind, 
Or  bad,  or  good,  must  some  materials  find 
To  fill  imagination,  memory,  thought : 
And  can  a  child  select  them  as  it  ought  ? 


ude,  > 

1.       , 


POEMS.  89 

Who  would  not  shudder,  were  he  to  be  told, 
A  child  was  dead  with  hunger,  or  .with  cold  ; 

^  11         -  •  •  1     -         <^/Vr 

Or  swallowing  poison  with  its  deadifrfare,^ 
Or  heedlessly  expos'd  to  tainted  air,  ^ 

Not  through  necessity,  but  want  of  care?  J 
Nor  should  those  parents  be  esteem'd  more  kind, 
Who  nurse  the  body,  but  neglect  the  mind. 
The  mind  requires,  it  hungers  after  food: 
What's  light  puffs  up,  it  can't  digest  the  crude, 
But  thrives  on  what  is  nourishing  and  good. 
Some  think  they  have  their  duty  well  fulfilled, 
When  a  high  sense  of  honour  is  instill'd; 
The  world's  opinions  highly  this  regard ; 
And,  wrell  repiited,  they  have  their  reward  : 
This  may  be  right  in  an  inferior  sense  ; 
With  this,  perhaps,  'twere  dangerous  to  dispense. 
But  there  are  nobler  motives  not  a  few, 
And  found,  in  fact,  more  efficacious  too  : 
Virtue's  best  guardian,  far  the  strongest  fence 
To  bar  out  vice,  is  an  abiding  sense 
Of  lying  open  to  th*  omniscient  eye, 
Of  him,  who  can't  behold  iniquity ; 
Who,  as  it  were,  the  very  soul  dissects,- 
And  every  lurking  vanity  detects ; 
H  2 


90  POEMS. 

Who  the  extensive  universe  commands, 
And  holds  our  fates  in  his  eternal  hands  ; 
Whose  bleeding  mercy  has  found  out  a  plan 
To  save  and  quicken  lost,  degenerate  man  ; 
To  raise  him  from  the  sink,  to  purify, 
And  kindly  make  him  capable  of  joy  ; 
But  ne'er  dissolved,  nor  will,  for  any  price, 
Dissolve  the  tie  'twixt  misery  and  vice. 
Hence  let  her  reason — justly,  hence  conclude, 
If  I'd  be  happy  I  must  first  be  good  ; 
God  still  beholds  whatever  I  say  or  do ; 
My  inmost  thoughts  are  open  to  his  view : 
Him  let  me  please,  tho'  others  I  offend, 
And  mak$  his  gioiy  still  my  highest  end, 


INSCRIBED  TO  JHY  BROTHERS. 


ONCE  more  I'll  try  the  oft  attempted  theme. 
And  breathe  in  verse  my  honoured  father's  name. 
When  o'er  his  lifeless  corpse  my  bosom  bled, 
And  sense  and  reason  both  pronounc'd  him  dead; 


POEMS.  91 

Still,  still  I  felt  so  close,  so  dear  a  tie, 
On  him  it  seem'd  so  natural  to  rely,  [die. 

I  knew  not  how  to  think  so  good  a  man  should, 
When  in  the  grave  his  dear  remains  were  laid, 
And  the  last  rites,  and  funeral  honours  paid  ; 
No  language  can  describe  the  pangs  I  bore ; 
I  wept,,  and  wept,  till  I  could  weep  no  more* 
To  me  the  little  tenement  he  left 
Seem'd  like  a  body  of  the  soul  bereft. 
The  trees  had  then  their  leafy  honours  shed, 
And  seem'd  to  mourn  their  late  possessor  dead. 
The  muse  was  wont  to  come  to  my  relief, 
And  sooth  my  soul  in  every  little  grief; 
But  now  I  strove,  and  always  strove  in  vain, 
To  range  my  thoughts  in  a  poetic  strain  : 
My  swelling  heart  refus'd  the  muse's  aid ; 
Ideas  teem'd,  but  nothing  could  be  said. 
But  now  my  father's  mem'ry  pleasure  brings  ; 
I'd  rather  be  his  daughter,  than  a  king's. 
If  this  be  pride,  may  it  his  sons  inspire ; 
Oh !  may  they  learn  to  emulate  their  sire ! 
But  of  that  sire,  alas !  they  little  knew, 
And  from  his  lips  but  small  instruction  drew. 
'Tis  God  alone  can  such  a  loss  supply  ; 
That  God  in  whom  we  live,  and  at  whose  call  we  die 


92  POEMS. 

Could  I  the  outlines  of  his  features  trace, 

And  give  you  but  a  shadow  of  his  face ; 

Methinks,  'twould  kindle  in  your  hearts  a  flame  ; 

You'd  strive  to  wear  his  virtues,  with  his  name. 

Those  virtues  were  not  of  the  dazzling  kind ; 

But  deep  and  solid  as  the  golden  mine  : 

His  dress  was  simple,  and  his  manners  plain ; 

Frugal,  without  a  sordid  love  of  gain ; 

Unalterably  just,  but  not  severe ; 

His  temper  steady,  and  his  judgment  clear ; 

With  courage  still  th'  oppressed  to  defend, 

He  always  prov'd  himself  the  poor  man's  friend. 

According  to  this  rule  I  saw  him  live ; 

His  left-hand  knew  not  what  his  right-hand  gave, 

He  never  deem'd  it  courage  to  blaspheme, 

Nor  madly  sport  with  the  Eternal  name;. 

But  to  his  maker  daily  homage  paid, 

With  decent  rev'rence,  and  without  parade. 

His  genius but  I  must  myself  command, 

Nor  speak  of  what  I  do  not  understand : 
But  well  I  know,  the  sciences  he  Icv'd, 
And  many  a  youth  his  lessons  have  improved. 
He  in  his  fam'ly  had  the  happy  art, 
Without  constraint,  to  reign  in  every'  heart. 


POEMS.  93 

His  wife  and  children  on  his  will  could  rest, 
And  thought  whatever  he  did  or  said  was  best. 
His  modest  merit  general  notice  drew ; 
His  friends  were  numerous  and  his  foes  were  few* 
Such  was  your  father,  strive  to  be  the  same  ; 
Copy  his  virtues,  and  deserve  his  namee 


MELANCHOLY  INSTANCE  OF  HUMAN  DEPRA 
VITY. 


UPON  the  bank  of  a  slow- winding  flood 
The  good  Alphonso's  modest  mansion  stood; 
A  man  he  was  throughout  the  country  known, 
Of  sterling  sense,  to  social  converse  prone : 
He  walk'd  the  plains  with  such  majestic  grace, 
When  time  had  drawn  its  furrows  on  his  face, 
'Twas  easy  to  infer  his  youthful  charms, 
When  first  the  fair  Maria  bless'd  his  arms : 
Maria — Oh !  what  mix'd  emotions  rise, 
Grief,  pity,  indignation,  and  surprise, 
At  thought  of  thee ! • 


94  POEMS. 

Thy  sweetness  might  have  mov'd  the  harshest 

mind ; 

Thy  kindness  taught  th'  ungentlest  to  be  kind  ; 
And  yet  a  fiend  enshrin'd  in  female  mould 
Could  thy  heart-rending  agonies  behold  ; 
When  by  her  cruel  wiles  thy  wedded  heart 
Was  basely  sever'd  from  its  dearest  part. 
The   lov'd    Alphonso's  breathless   corpse    she 

view'd, 

And  yet  her  harden'd  heart  was  unsubdu'd. 
Perhaps,  she  saw  thee  sink  beside  his  bed, 
Or  lean  in  speechless  sorrow  o'er  the  dead ; 
Or  heard  thee  faintly  cry — The  knot's  unti'd 
Come,  gentle  death,  thou  cans't  no  more  divide  : 
But  spare  our  children,  our  lov'd  offspring  sparer 
They  still  are  young,  and  life  is  worth  their  care. 
To  me  the  charm  that  sweeten'd  life  is  gone ; 
Weep  not,  my  friends,  I  cannot  die  tco  soon. 
Fast  through  her  reins  the  subtle  poison  spread, 
And  join'd  with  grief,  to  bow  her  aged  head. 
Her  children  strive  her  drooping  head  to  stay ; 
The  monster  works  to  rend  those  props  away ; 
But  triumphs  not:  a  greater  power  sustains 
And  beats  them  through  excruciating  pains. 


POEMS.  95 

Oft  did  Maria,  in  serener  days. 
With  tender  transport  on  her  offspring  gaze ; 
Maternal  love  was  pictur'd  in  her  face, 
The  happy  parent  of  a  blooming  race ; 
Now  the  fond  mother  feels  at  every  pore; 
Worse  than  her  own,  the  pangs  her  children  bore. 
Yet  still  herself,   sweet,  affable,  and  mild, 
The  patient  sufferer  on  her  murciVer  smil'd; 
Who  by  her  bed  officiously  attends,  "1 

Concern  and  kind  solicitude  pretends,        J» 
Yet  still  pursues  her  own  infernal  ends.     J 
Hence  aid  medicinal  is  rendered  vain, 
By  frequent  potions  of  the  deadly  bane ; 
While  cruel  toiture  rack^Maria's  frame, 
And  by  degrees  puts  out  the  vital  flame. 

Now  pause,  my  muse,  and  seriously  enquire, 
What  could  this  hellish  cruelty  inspire ! 
Why  strike  at  those  who  no  offence  had  given? 
It  seems  like  stabbing  at  the  face  of  heaven ! 
In  her  dark  mind  what  ugly  passions  breed ! 
Like  gnawing  worms,  they  on  her  vitals  feed. 
Without  an  object,  what  could  malice  do  ? 
Alvina's  near,  she's  often  in  her^view; 
In  her  polluted  soul  foul  envy's  rais'd; 
Because  perhaps  she  hears  Alvinaprais'd; 


96  POEMS. 

A  groundless  jealousy  her  breast  inflames; 
'Gainst  thee,  Alvina,  she  the  mischief  aims. 
The  wicked  miscreant  working  in  the  dark. 
Spreads  ruin  round,  but  cannot  hit  the  mark : 

A  power  divine  restrains  the  falling  blow 

Thus  far  thou  may'st,  but  shalt  no  farther  go. 
What  deadly  venom  rankled  in  that  breast! 
What  worse  than  poison  must  the  soul  infest, 
Which  still  its  fatal  purpose  could  pursue, 
Tho'  general  destruction  might  ensue ! 
Oh !  sin,  prolific  source  of  human  woe ! 
To  thee  mankind  their  various  sorrows  owe ; 
Thro'  thee  our  world  a  gloomy  aspect  wears, 
And  is  too  justly  stil'd  a  vale  of  tears. 
Man  was  first  form'd  upon  a  social  plan ; 
And  ties  unnumber'd  fasten  man  to  man : 
None  are,  howe'er  debas'd,  in  form  or  mind, 
Cut  oflf  from  all  communion  with  their  kind. 
Witness  the  wretched  subject  of  these  lines. 
Alas !  how  many  suffered  by  her  crimes ! 
Who  more  detach'd,  of  less  import,  than  she  ? 
Yet  mark  her  influence  on  society. 
But  there  are  crimes  of  a  less  shocking  kind, 
That  find  an  easy  pass  from  mind  to  mind ; 


POEMS.  97 

As  fire  spreads  from  one  building  to  another, 
The  vicious  man  contaminates  his  brother ; 
Why  wonder,  then,  that  Adam  could  deface 
His  maker's  image  in  an  unborn  race  ? 
When  his  own  hand  the  sacred  stamp  had  torn, 
Could  he  transmit  it  whole  to  sons  unborn  ? 
In  him  the  foul  contagion  first  began  ; 
From  sire  to  son  the  deadly  venom  ran  ; 
Thus  poisoning  all  the  mighty  mass  of  man.. 
The  sad  eifect  is  dreadful  to  endure  ; 
But  human  wisdom  could  not  find  a  cure  : 
Thus,  Scripture,  reason,  and  experience,  tend 
To  prove,  the  power  that  made  alone  can  mend. 
Oh!  Christ,  thou  sum  and  source  of  every  good, 
Thou  that  for  sinners  shed'st  thy  precious  blood, 
In  thee  our  various  wants  are  all  supplied ; 
Thy  death  our  ransom,  and  thy  life  our  guide. 
In  thee  thy  followers  second  life  attain  ; 
And  man  reflects  his  maker's  face  again. 
Is  sin  progressive,  spreading  every  hour  ? 
Has  heaven-born  virtue  no  diifusive  power  ? 
Our  blessed  Saviour  is  a  living  head  ; 
The  streams  that  issue  from  him  can't  be  dead, 
But  scatter  life  and  fragrance,  as  they  spread. 
I 


98  POEMS. 

DELIA. 


YOUNG  DELIA  cries,  where  shall  I  find 
A  residence,  to  please  my  mind  ? 
A  place  that's  free  from  care  and  pain, 
Where  perfect  ease  and  pleasure  reign  ? 

First  to  the  city  Delia  flies  ; 
And  there  sees  human  butterflies, 
Who  to  all  gay  amusements  go, 
In  silk  and  silver  make  a  show. 

Sure  these  are  happy,  Delia  cries ; 
Their  thoughtless  air  excites  suqorise ; 
Gayly  they  flutter  to  and  fro, 
Nor  seem  to  have  one  thought  of  woe. 

Soon  she  joins  the  gaudy  train, 
Paints  and  dresses ;  but  in  vain  : 
Aitho'  in  sparkling  gems  she  shin'd, 
Still  discontent  prey'd  on  her  mind. 

At  length  with  high  disdain  she  cri'd  ; 
I'll  bid  adieu  to  pomp  and  pride ; 
Unto  the  country  I'll  repair, 
And  try  th'  effect  of  rural  air. 


POEMS.  99 

Ah !  Delia,  whither  would'st  thou  go ! 
A  mind  diseased  breeds  thy  woe ; 
You  your  own  bitter  pills  prepare, 
And  trifles  always  cause  you  care. 

If  you  would  truly  be  at  rest, 
Make  virtue  sov'reign  in  your  breast ; 
To  real  ills  she  brings  relief, 
And  certain  cure  to  fancied  grief. 

Think,  fairest  pupil,  that  you  hear 
Bright  virtue  whispering  in  your  ear 
Such  words  as  these,  with  aspect  mild, 
As  if  an  angel  on  you  smil'd : 

Be  never  gaudy,  but  be  gay ; 
In  something  useful  spend  each  day  ; 
Some  relaxation  I  don't  slight ; 
It  whoksomeis,  and  yields  delight 


100  POEMS. 


To  THE  MEMORY  OF  W.  M; -.  WHO  DIE© 

AT  NATCHEZ. 


A  SAC  foreboding  fills  my  anxious  heart; 

The  doleful  news  still  tingle  in  my  ear ; 
Oh !  may  a  gracious  providence  aveit 

These  dreadful  evils  we  have  cause  to  fear  ! 
See  how  the  righteous  fall  on  every  side ! 

Mark  that  sweet  flow'r,  cropt  in  its  vernal  bloom ! 
To  such  a  safe  asylum  is  supplied  ; 

Are  they  not  taken  from  the  ills  to  come ! 
Ah  !  would  fhe  living  lay  such  deaths  to  heart, 

Ponder  their  hearts  with  care,  their  lives  amend, 
From  every  false  and  wicked  way  depart ; 

Then  death's  sore  pangs  would  sin  and  sorrow 

end. 
But  quite  regardless  of  such  friendly  calls, 

Alas  !  th'  unthinking  multitude  remain  ! 
Or  cleave  to  tottering  fences,  bowing  walls, 

Deceitful  props,  which  can't  themselves  sustain. 
The  mem'ry  of  the  wicked  soon  must  rot : 

But  thine,  dear  youth,  emits  a  sweet  perfume  : 


POEMS.    ,-/ALi  T 

Thy  genuine  virtues  must  not  be  forgot ; 

They  shed  a  sacred  radiance  round  thy  tomb  : 
Virtues  which  spring  from  a  mere  earthly  root, 

Could  never  boast  such  excellence  as  thine  ; 
Celestial  trees  alone  produce  such  fruit, 

The  gracious  planting  of  a  hand  divine. 
The  dear  Redeemer's  image  was  impressed 

On  thee,  too  legibly  to  be  mista'nj 
That  heavenly  love  which  warm'd  thy  youthful 
breast, 

That  blessed  image,  thou  dost  still  retain. 
Of  thee  th*  unworthy  world  is  soon  depriv'd  : 

Alas  !  the  world  thy  value  would  not  know  h 
From  diff 'rent  springs  thy  pleasures  were  deriv'd, 

In  other  channels  their  affections  flow. 
Yet  there  was  in  thee  what  insured  trust, 

In  what  regards  this  world,  as  well  as  heaven ; 
For  in  th'  unrighteous  mammon  those  are  just 

To  whom  th'  unfading  riches  shall  be  given* 
Blest  youth,  thy  spirit  is  no  longer  griev'd 

By  seeing  evils,  which  thou  could'st  not  cure ; 
But  Him  thou  see'st  in  whom  thou  hast  believ'd, 

And  feel'st  thy  bliss,  thy  endless  bliss  secure, 
12 


I«2  POEMS. 

No  mother  lives  to  mourn  thy  early  fate, 

Or  sink  o'erwhelm'd  with  sorrow  at  the  news ; 
No  dear  relation  by  thy  bed  did  wait. 

And  from  thy  forehead  wipe  the  clammy  dews : 
But  all  that  knew  thee  feel  a  fond  regret ; 

While  fancy  hovers  o'er  thy  distant  urn ; 
Virtue's  just  tribute  every  eye  must  wet ; 

And  every  heart  with  emulation  burn. 


To  MlSS  S.  W .     ON   THE    RECOVERY    O-£ 

HER  HEALTH. 

PERMIT  the  muse  to  touch  a  tender  string, 
The  chord  of  gratitude :  dost  thou  not  feel 
Its  sweet  vibrations  ?  While  with  a  full  heart 
You  lift  your  eye  to  Him,  whose  goodness  gives 
Virtues  medicinal  to  fountains,  plants, 
And  minerals.     Oh !  let  us  all  beware  ! 
While  these  we  use  and  own  their  healing  powers, 
Lest  e'er  the  great  Physician  we  forget, 
Their  author,  whose  beneficence  divine 
Streams  forth  in  golden  veins  thro'  all  his  works, — 
His  works  of  nature,  providence,  and  grace. 


POEMS,  103 

Again  thy  pulse  beats  regular ;  thine  eye 
Sparkles  with  health ;  thy  late  relaxed  frame 
Renews  its  vigor ;  ev'ry  look  conveys 
Transporting  information  to  the  hearts 
Of  kind  relations,  who  with  anxious  care 
Observ'd  the  progress  of  the  dire  disease. 
But  most  thy  parents  felt  thy  late  decline, 
And  feel  thy  restoration :  it  was  theirs 
To  mark  thy  dawning  talents,  the  first  germs 
Of  intellectual  and  of  moral  beauty 
Put  forth  their  leaves  beneath  their  fostering  eye. 
Long  may 'st  thou  live ;  and  may  they  too  be  spar'd, 
To  see  the  promise  of  thy  tender  years 
More  than  accomplished  in  thy  ripen'd  worth ; 
While  all  their  numerous  offspring  join  to  weave 
A  never  fading  chaplet  to  their  brows. 


ELEANORA. 

not  the  glow  of  youth,  tho5  this  appears 
But  the  expression  of  superior  charms ; 

A  look  of  conscious  rectitude  she  wears : 
Her  smile  like  dawning  Phoebus  cheersand  warms, 


104  POEMS. 

In  duty  active,  and  in  manners  mild, 
And  unassuming,  as  that  modest  flower, 

Whose  unobtrusive  sweetness  decks  the  wild. 
Adorns  the  garden,  and  the  shady  bower : 

She's  not  elated  with  a  prosperous  state ; 
The  dignity  of  virtue  she  maintains ; 

The  pride  arising  from  a  fair  estate, 
Or  outward  show,  her  better  sense  disdains. 

Ah !  vain  attempt !  my  muse  can  never  draw 
The  lineaments  of  beauty  so  refin'd ; 

She  drops  the  pencil,  touch'd  with  trembling 

awe, 
And  fears  injustice  to  so  fair  a  mind. 

The  gentle  Eleanora's  charms  to  trace 
Requires  an  artist  of  superior  skill ; 

To  give  each  excellence  its  proper  place, 
And  her  sweet  spirit  through  the  whole  distill, 


POEMS.  105 

'EPITHALAMIUM. 


WHEN  love  and  fair  Serenia  is  the  theme, 
Let  no  discordant  note  die  ear  annoy ; 

In  gentlest  accents  breathe  the  sweetest  name, 
Attune  the  muse  to  harmony  and  joy. 

Come  hither,  hymen's  fairest  train, 

Here  let  love  and  friendship  reign, 

Sweet  solicitude  to  please, 

Mutual  confidence  and  ease  : 

But  fly  far  hence  insidious  .pair, 

Fell  distrust,  and  preying  care. 

Hymen,  may  these  thy  ardent  votaries  find, 
Thy  promis'd  blessings  all-sincere  and  real, 

Joys  pure,  and  spotless,  as  Serenia's  mind, 
And  exquisite,  as  fondest  lovers  feel. 

Still  may  love's  impressive  smile 

Soften  grief,  and  sweeten  toil ; 

Still  the  mutual  flame  increasing, 

Eagh  at  once  both  blest  and  blessing ; 

Lasting  may  those  blessings  prove, 

And  peace  and  plenty  crown  their  love. 


106  POEMS. 

Beneficent  dispenser  of  all  good, 

Look  down  with  favour  on  the  youthful  pair ; 
Give  them  an  interest  in  the  Saviour's  blood ; 

Make  them  the  objects  of  thy  special  care. 
Put  them  not  off  with  earthly  toys, 
With  these  vain  transitory  joys  ; 
But  let  thy  common  favours  be 
The  means  to  raise  their  hearts  to  thee : 
May  they  together  thee  adore, 
When  earthly  ties  are  felt  no  more. 


ODE  TO  VIRTUE. 

O  VIRTUE,  fair,  divinely  fair, 

How  sweetly  dost  thou  shine ! 
In  angel  brightness  thou  appear  Jst ; 

Thy  line'age  is  divine. 
In  heav'n  thou  first  a  being  had'st, 

And  always  wilt  endure  ; 
Perfection  there  is  to  be  found 

Unlimited  and  pure. 
Within  thy  bosom,  O  my  God, 

True  virtue  doth  reside ; 
In  thee  its  very  essence  lies, 

In  thee,  and  none  beside. 


POEMS.  107 


To  ELIZA. 


FROM  lonely  shades,  a  calm  obscure  retreat, 
I  Let  me  my  friend,  my  dear  Eliza  greet : 
1  Now  far  remov'd  from  commerce  with  the  gay, 

In  sober  dulness  here  I  pass  the  day. 

Sometimes,  alas  !  I  feel  my  spirits  sink  ; 

And  grow  almost  too  indolent  to  think : 

A  lazy  stupor  creeps  through  all  my  blood, 

And  more  than  half  congeals  the  vital  flood. 

Oh !  for  a  friend,  to  give  a  hearty  shake, 

And  bid  these  drowsy  faculties  awake ! 
!  Or  rather,  gracious  author  of  my  frame, 
i  Kindle  my  dull  devotion  to  a  flame ; 
}  Let  true  religion  in  my  bosom  thrive ; 

Oh !  bid  me  live,  and  feel  myself  alive. 

What,  tho'  the  fleeting  moments  glide  away  ! 
j  What,  tho'  this  feeble  frame  must  soon  decay ! 

What,  tho'  my  life  but  as  a  hand-breadth  seems, 
j  And  youth's  gay  prospect,  visionary  dreams  ! 

Still  there  are  joys,  substantial  past  dispute, 

That  will  not  mock  us  with  a  vain  pursuit. 


108  POEMS, 

Sure,  there's  enough  to  keep  the  soul  awake, 
When  heaven's  eternal  glories  are  at  stake. 
At  death  the  thinking  principle  survives ; 
And  e'en  the  mouldering^clay  again  revives  : 
This  thought  to  peace  and  resignation  tends, 
And  sooths  our  sorrow  for  departed  friends  ; 
Teaches  in  His  disposing  will  to  rest, 
Who  orders  human  changes  for  the  best. 
You,  lovely  maid,  in  grief  can  sympathise, 
You've  felt  the  rupture  of  the  tenderest  ties; 
Yet,  if  your  honour'd  parents  still  wrere  here, 
You  scarce  would  act  in  such  a  useful  sphere  : 
In  you,  distinguish  maid,  we  long  have  known 
A  father,  mother,  sister,  all  in  one  : 
Your  various  duties  you  with  care  fulfil, 
And  act  your  part  with  diligence  and  skill. 
May  providence  your  little  household  guard, 
And  crown  your  virtue  with  a  rich  reward. 
Alas !  how  many  changes  have  I  known  ! 
How  many  of  my  early  friends  are  flo\m  ! 
Where's  the  fond  father  now,  upon  whose  breast 
My  infant  head  with  confidence  did  rest! 
Whose  voice  I,  as  an  oracle,  have  heard, 
And  sought  his  favour  as  a  rich  reward  J 


POEMS,  109 

No  youthful  charms  did  then  my  heart  engage ; 
I  saw  unrivall'd  beauties  in  his  age. 
His  hoary  locks  diffused  a  reverend  grace, 
And  lines  of  deep  reflection  mark'd  his  face  ; 
His  eyes  with  a  benignant  lustre  shin'd 
Clear,  bright  and  deep,  expressive  of  the  mind. 
He  is  not  now  extinct ;  he  still  maintains 
A  part,  Great  Father,  i&  thy  wide  domains. 
Perhaps  with  means  and  faculties  improv'd, 
He  still  pursues  the  sciences  he  lov'd ; 
Perhaps  he  still  is  near  me,  though  unseen 
(By  the  dim  organs  of  this  gross  machine; 
Perhaps  he  has  my  watchful  guardian  been. 
j  Whether  departed  spirits  e'er  attend, 
| As  guardian  Angels  to  surviving  friends, 
jjls  not  for  dull  mortality  to  learn : 
Nor  is  it  matter  of  supreme  concern. 
It  more  concerns  us  carefully  to  prove 
Our  interest  in  the  great  Redeemer's  love  : 
To  trace  his  footsteps*— in  his  merit  trust, 
And  seek  through  him  the  mansions  of  the  just. 
Eliza,  let  us  carefully  maintain 
Our  posts,  while  stationed  in  this  hostile  plain, 


110  POEMS. 

We're  call'd  to  hold,  until  our  latest  breath, 

A  war  with  sin,  the  harbinger  of  death  : 

Still,  with  our  chief,  our  glorious  chief,  in  view. 

Let  us  the  foe,  our  subtle  foe,  pursue : 

Nor  let  th'  insidious  source  of  human  woe 

Reign  in  our  hearts,  and  poison  all  we  do. 

Our  weapons,  and  our  strength,  His  grace  sup*' 

plies ; 

While  in  his  hand  he  holds  the  shining  prize. 
No  fading  laurel  tempts  the  glorious  strife ; 
But  spotless  virtue,  and  immortal  life : 
For  such  a  crown,  'tis  wisdom  to  endure  : 
To  be  forever,  and  forever,  pure. 
Behold !  the  gate  of  heav'n  wide  open  stands : 
He  beckons  to  us  with  his  bleeding  hands. 
O !   let  us  to  th'  impressive  sign  attend, 
Nor  fear  ten  thousand  foes,  when  bless'd  with  such 

a  friend. 


POEMS.  Ill 

CONTEMPLATIONS. 


O  !  AUTHOR  of  the  universe, 

How  glorious  must  thou  be ! 
Who  could'st  such  wond'rous  works  perform, 

As  those  bright  worlds  I  see ! 
The  starry  firmament  on  high, 

How  glorious  to  survey ! 
Those  stars  in  lustre  far  surpass 

The  diamond's  sparkling  ray. 
When  view'd  as  ornamental  gems, 

My  eyes  enraptur'd  gaze  : 
Considering  them  as  neighb'ring  worlds,, 

My  soul's  rapt  in  amaze. 
If  such  thy  wondVous  works,  O  Lord; 

How  great  thyself  must  be  ! 
Above  the  comprehension 

Of  such  poor  worms  as  we, 
Absorb'd  in  thy  immensity, 

As  nothing  we  appear ; 
Yet  still  the  meanest  of  thy  works 

Experiences  thy  care, 


112  POEMS', 


To  MRS,  J 


WELCOME,  lovely  stranger,  welcome 
From  the  seat  of  pomp  and  noise  j 

Welcome  to  the  rural  villa, 
Here  to  taste  more  solid  joys  ; 

Here  to  taste  the  various  pleasures 

Which  a  rural  life  bestows  ; 
When  the  mind's  attun'd  to  relish 

Pleasure  that  from  nature  flows. 

If  you  delight  in  contemplation, 
Ample  scope  it  here  may  have ; 

Sure  you  need  not  want  enjoyment, 
Whether  you  are  gay  or  grave. 

Nature's  spacious  book  lies  open, 
Flow'ry  fields  and  meadows  gay, 

Where,  without  one  rude  spectator, 
With  your  J — n  you  may  stray. 


POEMS/  113 

MATILDA. 

SOON  as  Aurqra  blush'd  along  the  sky, 
The  young  Matilda,  rising  from  her  bed, 

Walk'd  forth,  the  fragrant  morning  to  enjoy  : 
O'er  dewy  meads  the  lovely  wand'rer  sped, 

Till  on  the  summit  of  a  tow'ring  hill ; 
Where  she  might  view  the  fields  in  all  their  pride, 

And  listen  to  the  bubbling  of  a  rill, 
Whose  streams  meander'd  'long  the  mountain's 
side  : 

Seated,  she  cast  her  wandering  eyes  around, 
View'd  nature,  thus  adorn'd  in  all  her  charms  : 

What  sweets,  said  she,  do  every  where  abound? 
The  pleasing  scene  this  glowing  bosom  warms. 

Ye  sons  of  sloth,  who  nowinactive  lie, 
Ye  little  relish  the  delights  I  taste ; 

Else  to  yourselves  ye  sure  could  not  deny 
So  pure,  so  sweet,  so  exquisite  a  feast. 

The  feather'd  host,  in  joyous  concert  join'd, 
With  their  delightful  wrarbling  fill  the  air, 

Yielding  improvement  to  th'  attentive  mind, 
While  the  wild  music  greets  the  ravish'd  ear* 
K  2 


114  POEMS. 

Here  choicest  flowers,  in  rich  profusion  strew'd, 
Deck  the  gay  plains,  and  make  creation  smile ; 

From  these  the  bees  extract  the  sweetest  food, 
When  the  warm  sun  invites  them  to  their  toil* 

This  is  the  hour,  the  happy  hour,  to  pay 
Our  adoration  to  the  source  of  light  j 

Just  when  Aurora  drives  the  shades  away, 
And  ruddy  moniing  takes  the  place  of  night. 

The  mind,  refreshed  by  its  late  repose, 
Is  now  more  strong  and  vig'rous  than  before : 

Let  us  not  then  this  happy  moment  lose  ; 
But  the  great  source  of  all  that's  good  adore. 

>Tis  He  who  makes  the  smiling  flowers  to 

grow, 
Which  thus  enamel  the  green  mantled  plain ; 

>Tis  He  who  bids  yon  bubbling  brook  to  flow 
And  gladdens  earth  with  fertilizing  rain. 

Tho*  these  his  sovereign  power  and  goodness 

show ; 
TheyVe  small,  compar'd  to  works  that  he  has  done : 

Far  greater  blessings  from  his  bounty  flow ; 
His  choicest  gifts  are  treasured  in  his  Son. 


POEMS.  115 

YOUTH. 


YOUTH'S  a  sweet  season,  but  so  quickly  flown* 
We  scarcely  call  the  transient  bloom  our  own ; 
We  hardly  feel  ourselves  upon  the  stage, 
Till  time  gives  warning  of  approaching  age. 
But  youth  may  a  still  lovelier  light  assume, 
Viewed  as  an  emblem  of  immortal  bloom  ; 
Like  as  the  blossom,  from  a  generous  root, 
Is  a  fair  prelude  to  delicious  fruit. 
But  here  a  thought  occurs — from  root  that's  dead 
How  can  the  bud  protrude,  or  blossom  spread? 
Our  root  is  withered  in  a  barren  soil ; 
Our  lamps  are  out,  and  wasted  is  our  oil. 
Unchanged  by  pow'r  divine,  our  fairest  deeds 
Appear  like  fading  flowers,  oupois'nous  weeds : 
But  once  ingrafted  in  the  living  vine, 
The  flower's  immortal,  and  the  fruit  divine. 
Alas !  what  precious  hours  we  spend  in  vain ! 
In  learning  what  must  be  unlearn'd  again  I 
'Tis  mortifying,  when  advanc'd  to  age, 
To  be  set  back  r  as  'twere,  to  the  first  page, 


116  POEMS. 

But  worse  by  far,  at  last  to  yield  the  ghost, 
Untutor'd  still  in  what  concems  us  most. 
How  dreadful  to  the  unembodi'd  mind, 
To  leave  its  wisdom,  and  its  wealth,  behind ! 
Be  thou,  O  Lord,  my  wisdom  and  my  wealth ; 
My  bed  in  sickness,  and  my  joy  in  health ; 
Thro'  all  the  changing  scenes  of  life,  my  guide ; 
At  once  my  glory,  and  my  shield  from  pride. 
O  !  turn  my  heart  from  vanity  and  lies ! 
The  sacred  volume  teach  me  how  to  prize  : 
Grant  me  the  teachings  of  thy  spirit,  Lorc^ 
That  I  may  rightly  understand  thy  word. 
Me  to  thy  blessed  image,  Lord,  transform — 
What  an  aspiring  thought  in  such  a  worm ! 
But  thou  art  pleas?d  to  see  our  hearts  aspire, 
Thou  blessed  source  of  every  good  desire. 
O !  let  me  cleave  and  fasten  to  my  Rock ! 
And  there  sustain  the  last  tremendous  shock : 
Not  life,  nor  death,  in  its  most  frightful  gloom, 
Nor  things  that  present  are,  nor  things  to  come, 
Nor  height,  nor  depth,  nor  all  the  powers  that  be, 
Can  separate  from  the  love  of  God  and  thee. 


POEMS.  117 


A  HYMN. 


WHY  should  my  soul  lie  sunk  in  deep  desponcfc- 

ence, 

Brooding  o'er  evils  in  their  nature  transient! 
Why  this  depression,  while  so  many  blessings 

Cluster  around  me ! 

Don't  those  possessions  which  allure  the  world 
ling, 

Owe  their  chief  value  t'  artificial  cravings  ? 
While  the  enjoyments  of  the  child  of  nature 

Are  more  refreshing. 

Think  how  preposterous,  in  such  poor  delinquents, 
Who  the  least  favour  cannot  claim  from  merit, 
Thus  to  come  forward  with  our  idle  wishes, 

Claiming  indulgence! 

|  Think  how  ungrateful,  thus  to  pine  and  murmur 
!  At  the  privation  of  some  earthly  comforts ; 
While  the  best  blessings  which  a  God  could 
tender, 

Court  our  acceptance ! 


118  POEMS. 

Still  let  me  ponder,  with  increas'd  amazement, 
On  the  deep  sufferings  of  the  great  Redeemer ! 
On  his  perfections,  and  the  blessings  purchas'd 

For  his  believers ! 

O !  may  that  temper,  which  prevailed  in  Jesus, 
Gain  the  ascendant  over  all  that's  sensual ! 
Holy  affections,  which  ensure  fruition, 

Strengthen  within  me  I 


THE.  ABSURDITY   OF  ATHEISM. 

LIVES  there  a  man,  possess'd  of  ears  and  eyes, 
Who  the  dread  presence  of  a  God  denies  ? 
If  there  be  such,  let  him  for  once  survey 
The  various  beauties  nature's  works  display ; 
The  silver  fountain's  bosom  free  from  stain ; 
The  lofty  mountain,  and  the  lowly  plain ; 
Luxuriant  meadows,  and  high  tow'ring  trees ; 
Herbs,  fruits,  and  flowers:  then  ask,  who  made 

all  these? 
Thou  canst  not  think  that  by  mere  chance  they 

came, 

Nor  yet  that  mortal  man  perform'd  the  same. 
But  what  are  mortals  ?  View  thyself  and  see ; 
Without  a  power  divine  thou  could'st  not  be, 


POEMS.  119 

THE  FRIENDS  FROM  REAL  LIFE. 


SPRIGHTLY  Celia  treads  on  air; 

Mark  the  footsteps  of  the  fair ; 

See  her  smoothly  glide  along, 

Lightest  of  the  smiling  throng. 

What  pencil  can  her  manner  trace  ! 

>Tis  an  ever- varying  grace, 

Animates  her  form  and  face. 

Sweetest  smiles  with  frowns  are  blending, 

Chiding  now,  and  now  commending. 

Celia's  sensitive  all  over  ; 

A  feeling  friend,  a  fervent  lover ; 

She  can't  endure  a  neutral  part ; 

But  loves  and  hates  with  all  her  heart : 

And  every  way  that  heart's  affected, 

Its  feelings  on  her  face  depicted. 

We  sparkling  wit  in  Celia  find, 

With  traits  of  an  expanded  mind. 

She  as  a  mother  claims  regard  : 

O  !  may  her  child  her  care  reward. 


120  POEMS. 

To  her  in  closest  amity  is  joined 

A  being,  diff 'ring  both  in  form  and  mind ; 

Yet  in  essential  points  so  well  agreed, 

That  nothing  can  their  mutual  love  exceed. 

Her  I  will  call  Symphronia  the  sage ; 

For  in  her  youth  she  bears  the  fruits  of  age. 

She's  unaffected,  simple,  and  sincere, 

And  inly  kind,  when  outwardly  severe. 

Her  words  are  few,  sententious,  and  just : 

She's  full  of  thoughts,  that  might  get  leave  to 

rust,' 

Ii  sprightly  Celia  did  not  take  delight 
To  draw  the  little  embryos  into  light. 
While  her  fair  friend,  still  pondering  what  is  fitr 
Oft  sets  a  bound  to  Celia's  flowing  wit ; 
Diverts  its  course,  when  likely  to  offend, 
Nor  deems  a  lively  sally  worth  a  friend. 
Thus  mutual  benefits  cement  their  love ; 
And  with  their  years  their  friendship  must  im 
prove. 

Each  as  a  dearer-self  regards  her  friend, 
And  to  the  common  good  their  sep'rate  efforts 
tend. 


POEMS.  121 


CHRIST  OUR  SHEPHERD* 


SIN  shall  no  more  dominion  have, 
Since  Christ  its  reigning  power  hath  broke ; 

Strict  justice  now  can  nothing  crave 
Of  those  who  wear  his  easy  yoke. 

His  spotless  life  die  law  fulfils ; 
His  death  the  dreadful  forfeit  paid  ; 

His  spirit  a  new  life  instills ; 
In  him  his  people  are  re-made. 

He  triumphs  over  death  and  hell, 
O'er  principalities  and  powers, 

O'er  hearts  accustomed  to  rebel, 
,  Even  such  harden'd  hearts  as  ours. 

Our  Shepherd  is  the  glorious  Ring ; 
Our  King  the  Shepherd  of  his  sheep  ; 

Strong  consolation  this  must  bring : 
i  Bless'd  are  the  flock  he  deigns  to  keep. 

Dear  Jesus  bring  me  to  thy  fold. 
Encircled  in  thy  arms  divine  ; 

On  thee,  on  thee  I  fix  my  hold, 
And  nothing  lack,  since  thou  art  mine. 
L 


122  POEMS. 


To  MRS.  D . 

Farewell,  my  friend,  a  long  farewell ! 

A  mournful  sad  adieu ! 
I  call  to  mind  the  happy  hours, 

So  sweetly  spent  with  you  : 

Your  gayety  inspired  delight, 
And  made  the  moments  fly, 

Quick  as  the  radiant  beams  of  light. 
That  sparkle  in  your  eye. 

The  drooping  spirits  you  can  raise, 

And  make  dejection  gay  ; 
It  is  your  power,  be  it  your  praise, 

To  banish  care  away. 

Is  it  from  nature,  or  from  art, 

Your  spirits  still  are  free  ? 
If  you  have  power  the  charm  t'  impart, 

I  pray  you  teach  it  me. 

Write  a  receipt  for  cheerfulness, 

And  teach  me  how  to  find 
Tiut  blessing  of  the  highest  rank, 

That  cordial  of  the  mi 


POEMS.  123 

But  O !  I  doubt  a  countercharm 

Will  cause  the  cure  to  fail ! 
'Twill  bring  your  absence  to  my  mind ; 

Then  sadness  must  prevail. 


SPRING. 


HAIL,  charming  spring !  once  more  returned, 

To  greet  my  longing  eyes ; 
Thy  sweets  dispel  the  wintry  gloom. 

And  all  its  horror  flies. 

We  see  the  blossom  on  the  spray ; 

The  birds  in  concert  join ; 
Sweetly  the  moments  glide  away  ; 

Tor  every  sweet  is  thine. 

But  ah !  haw  transient  is  thy  reign ! 

Thy  beauties  soon  decay : 
An  emblem  of  youth's  florid  scene, 

Which  soon  must  wear  away. 

Then  teach  me,  Lord,  in  this  my  prime, 
Li  virtue's  path  to  tread  ^ 


124  POEMS. 

That,  when  I  feel  the  hand  of  time. 
Her  influence  may  spread 

Through  every  fibre  of  my  breast ; 

And  when  my  drooping  frame 
Is  pointing  to  its  element, 

Tow'rd  heaven  my  spirit  aim. 


ON  HEADING  EMMA  CORBET. 


I  TOO  have  read  (with  feeling,  and  with  care,) 

The  mournful  story  of  this  faithful  pair ; 

O'er  the  sad  tale  in  tears  of  pity  mourn'd, 

And  woes  fictitious  into  real  turn'd. 

Ah  !  what  avail  the  glowing  charms  of  youth, 

His  spotless  honour,  her  unblemished  truth ! 

Why  was  the  arrow  taken  from  his  side, 

Or  her  fair  lips  to  the  rank  wound  appli'd ! 

All, — all  conspire  to  rivet  heart  to  heart, 

And  make  it  still  more  terrible  to  part. 

But  need  \ve  to  fictitious  stories  fly  ? 

Or  learn  from  Novels,  men  are  born  to  die  ? 


POEMS.  125 

Does  not  each  day  present  before  our  eyesr 
Enough  of  woe  the  heart  to  humanize  ? 
And  every  hour's  experience  plainly  show, 
'Tis  vain,  to  seek  unmingled  bliss  below  ? 
Then  let  us  look  beyond  this  narrow  sphere ; 
Nor  let  our  dearest  hopes  be  centred  here ; 
Enjoy  the  good,  the  evil  well  apply, 
And  deem  it  our  best  privilege — to  die. 


A  TALE. 


GOOD  Timon  flourish'd  in  the  vale  of  life, 
Bless'd  with  a  gentle  and  attentive  wife ; 
Likewise  a  daughter  beautiful  as  day, 
Sweeter  than  Flora,  or  the  Queen  of  May. 
Good  nature  and  good  sense  together  join'd 
To  deck  the  lovely  SerapMna's  mind. 
Her  heav'nly  mind,  with  genuine  sweetness  grac'd, 
By  neither  pride  nor  folly  was  debased , 
But  every  modest  virtue  flourish'd  there  : 
She  was  her  parents'  joy,  their  only  care, 
L  2 


126  POEMS. 

To  train  her  up  to  virtue  was  their  view ; 

Sweet  was  the  task,  and  sweet  the  success  too, 

Soon  did  the  plant,  beneath  their  forming  hand, 

In  leaves  of  fairest  excellence  expand. 

Her  op 'ning  charms  their  various  cares  beguiPd : 

Possess'd  of  such  a  treasure  in  their  child, 

They  envy  not  the  opulent  and  gay, 

Who  warmly  bask  in  fortune's  brighter  ray. 

A  full  supply  for  present  use  is  given, 

And  for  the  future  they  rely  on  heaven. 

Early  they  'rose  with  the  first  dawn  of  day, 

And  with  united  ardour  join'd  to  pray  ; 

But  first  to  heav'n  their  grateful  hearts  they  raise> 

And  in  sweet  anthems  sing  their  Maker's  praise. 

Music  is  sometimes  call'd  devotion's  wings : 

Let  Seraphs  listen,  Seraphina  sings. 

They're  in  religion  just  what  they  appear ; 

Their  faith  is  stedfast,  and  their  love  sincere ; 

In  Christ  their  hopes  of  happiness  they  place, 

And  'tend  with  rev'rence  on  the  means  of  grace. 

Their  only  child  with  joyful  hearts  they  see 

Ripening  a-pace  for  immortality  \ 

Her  heart,  like  Lydia's,  open  to  receive 

The  best  instructions  matchless  love  could  give ; 


POEMS.  127 

Instructions  by  the  best  of  teachers  given, 
Th'  Incarnate  God,  a  messenger  from  heaven. 
O  happy  parents !  it  is  yours  to  prove 
A  blessing,  as  unbounded  as  your  love ! 
Not  e'en  her  death  your  comfort  could  destroy ; 
None  but  the  chiistian  parent  knows  your  joy. 
Retired  from  clam'rous  scenes  of  noise  and  strife, 
They  lead  a  quiet,  not  unsocial  life : 
Domestic  duties  their  chief  cares  employ  ; 
Domestic  pleasures  too  which  never  cloy. 
On  a  small  farm,  till'd  by  the  father's  hands, 
A  neat  unostentatious  building  stands; 
This  cultural  spot  their  various  wants  supplies, 
Their  skill,  their  industry,  and  patience  tries. 
Tho'  lowly,  to  a  nice  observer  here 
Traces  of  taste  and  elegance  appear ; 
The  native  product  of  a  well-tum'd  mind ; 
Nothing  too  coarse,  nor  yet  too  much  refin'd. 
Here  true  benevolence  reigns  in  every  breast; 
The  weary  traveller  here  is  sure  to  rest ; 
The  outcast  here  may  an  asylum  find ; 
While  pity's  balm  drops  on  the  wounded  mind* 
Oh !  it  is  sweet,  the  drooping  mind  to  cheer. 
Raise  the  depress'd,  and  dry  the  falling  tear ! 


128  POEMS. 

Nor  yet  their  humble  station  quite  forbade 

An  intercourse  with  those  of  higher  grade ; 

Nor  from  such  intercourse,  his  state  restrains 

Palemon,  wealthiest  of  the  neighboring  swains, 

And  bountiful  as  rich ;  his  liberal  hand, 

And  still  more  liberal  heart,  respect  command. 

A  finished  education  had  refin'd, 

Not  only  his  deportment,  but  his  mind : 

Whatever  is  good  and  great  is  still  his  aim : 

One  son  and  daughter  his  attention  claim, 

In  youth  of  a  beloved  wife  bereft, 

These  precious  pledges  to  his  care  were  left. 

No  second  choice  her  image  had  eras'd ; 

And  now  he  sees  his  lovely  daughter  grac'd 

With  the  same  sweetness,   all  those  winning 

charms, 

Which  in  his  dear  Amanda  bless'd  his  arms. 
He  as  a  father  well  fulfilled  his  part ; 
Drew  forth  their  talents  with  the  nicest  art; 
Put  them  on  gathering  intellectual  food ; 
Restraining  folly,  cherish'd  what  was  good* 
But  first  religion  as  a  ground- work  lays, 
Or  strives  to  lay,  and  for  a  blessing  prays 
On  his  endeavours.     Now  the  success  shows 
That  God  a  blessing  on  such  means  bestows. 


POEMS.  129 

His  children  in  their  characters  unite 

Whate'er  is  virtuous,  pious,  or  polite. 

Tho'  Timon  neither  wealth  nor  power  could  boast, 

He  was  the  friend  Palemon  valued  most. 

With  him  he  loves  to  spend  his  evening  hours ; 

No  dull  dispute  their  conversation  sours. 

In  both  good  sense  by  reading  was  improv'd; 

And  each  pursued  the  study  which  he  lov'd. 

In  agriculture  Timon  takes  delight, 

And  often  spends  the  watches  of  the  night, 

In  planning  methods  to  improve  the  soil, 

And  fertilize  it  with  the  smallest  toil. 

His  fertile  genius  an  expedient  found 

To  show'r  down  water  on  the  parched  ground ; 

When  summer  droughts  a  general  terror  spread, 

And  fields  well-cultur'd  scarcely  promis'd  bread. 

Here,  let  our  hearts  in  gratitude  arise 

To  Him,  whose  bounty  all  our  wants  supplies. 

From  age  to  age,  we  see  this  happy  plain, 

Its  still  increasing  'habitants  maintain, 

Producing  various  kinds  of  useful  grain. 

If  in  some  seasons  mildew,  drought,  or  fly, 

Destroy  some  kinds,  then  other  kinds  supply 

The  want ;  or  else  a  providential  store, 

Sav'd  from  th'  abundance  of  the  year  before. 


130  POEMS. 

Palemon,  who  could  proper  means  command, 
Reduc'd  to  practice  what  his  friend  had  plann'dt 
His  farms  a  most  enchanting  air  assume, 
His  corn-fields  flourish  and  his  orchards  bloom. 
He  wisely  deems  no  care  or  labour  lost, 
To  save  the  tender  buds  from  nipping  frost ; 
Well  pleas'd  to  find  th'  inventions  of  his  friend* 
Each  well  adapted  to  its  destin'd  end. 
Now,  O  my  muse !  in  gentlest  strains  relate 
The  lovely  Seraphina's  happy  fate. 
Like  some  fair  flow 'ret  opening  in  the  glade, 
So  blooms  unseen  the  sweet  sequester'd  maid* 
As  yet  her  visits  and  her  walks  extend 
Just  to  the  dwellings  of  a  rural  friend : 
Nor  farther  tempted  by  a  wish  to  roam, 
She  finds  employment  and  content  at  home. 
Her  leisure  hours  she  can  in  reading  spend, 
Or  conversation  with  her  fav'rite  friend, 
Palemon's  daughter,  whose  congenial  mind 
Seern'd  for  the  charming  intercourse  destined. 
Together  see  them  seated  in  the  grove, 
Or  arm  in  arm  o'er  flow'ry  meadows  rove  ! 
Whatever  is  known  to  one  the  other  learns, 
Instructer  each  and  pupil  in  their  turns*. 


POEMS.  131 

To  the  same  work  their  fingers  they  apply ; 

Their  voices  join  in  pleasing  melody. 

While  young  Osander  steals  an  hour  to  spend. 

In  fondly  gazing  on  his  sister's  friend. 

With  scornful  airs  she  never  turns  aside, 

Yet  wisely  strives  her  growing  love  to  hide ; 

Nor  hide  alone  :  she  laboured  to  subdue 

An  ilUplac'd  flame,  and  more  retired  grew : 

But  strives  to  shun  th'  enamour'd  youth  in  vain; 

Love's  gentle  influence  draws  him  o'er  the  plain. 

At  length,  his  tender  sentiments  confess'd, 

The  fair  one  thus  th'  astonish'd  youth  address'd  : 

Think  not,  Osander,  I'm  asham'd  to  own 

A  sense  of  merit ;  long  your  worth  I've  known : 

!  Nor  do  your  kind  attentions,  your  regard, 
Remain  unpaid ;  if  love  be  a  reward. 
Not  e'en  Amanda,  ever  kind  and  true, 
Possesses  more  my  confidence  than  you. 
Me,  as  a  friend  and  sister,  you  may  claim  ; 
But  dream,  Ah !  dream  not,  of  a  dearer  name  I 
Altho'  Osander  this  fond  heart  has  won, 

!  That  heart  aspires  not  to  Palemon's  son. 

;  You'll  say  your  father's  good,  as  well  as  great ; 
Tliis  is  a  truth,  admits  of  no  debate, 


132  POEMS. 

And  shall  we  blast  the  hopes  of  such  a  sire? 
Ah,  never !  no,  not  even  in  desire ! 
Through  you  he  may  a  grand  alliance  make* 
And  means  it  too,  for  his  Osander's  sake. 

Oh !  may the  sentence  on  her  lip  expired ; 

Her  heart  grew  full,  she  hastily  retir'd. 
Osander  for  a  moment  musing  stood ; 
Revolv'd  her  words,  and  found  her  meaning  good* 

A  grand  alliance well  so  let  it  be : 

Since  real  grandeur's  to  be  found  in  thee, 

Why  should  my  father  such  a  match  oppose  ? 

Or  why  my  fair  such  obstacles  suppose  ? 

1'U  to  my  sire,  before  him  prostrate  lie, 

Tell  him  at  once  my  suit,  and  her  reply ; 

The  native  greatness  of  her  mind  make  known  : 

A  king  might  proudly  such  a  daughter  own. 

Palemon  listen'd  to  the  tender  tale ; 

Paternal  love  and  virtue  turn'd  the  scale. 

Long  had  he  mark'd  her  unassuming  grace, 

And  thought  her  worthy  of  a  higher  place. 

The  approbation  of  all  parties  gain'd, 

No  low'ring  cloud  love's  rosy  visage  stain'd. 

But  that  the  nuptial  torch  might  bum  more  bright^ 

Osander  would  his  chosen  friend  invite, 


POEMS.  133 

Who  is  this  friend?  fair  Seraphina  cries, 
To  which  the  gentle  sister  thus  replies : 
His  character  is  not  to  be  defin'd, 
He  seems  a  being  of  superior  kind ; 
5Tis  his,  in  conversation  to  excel : 
What  other  mortal  ever  spoke  so  well  ? 
He  joins  such  flowing  eloquence  with  ease, 
On  any  subject  he  is  sure  to  please  : 
And  yet  he  always  rises  with  his  theme ; 
He  seems  inspired  by  a  celestial  flame, 
Let  conversation  take  a  serious  turn, 
To  hear  him,  makes  my  very  heart  to  burn  : 
With  such  resistless  force  his  periods  roll, 
They  find  a  way  directly  to  the  soul. 
i  Added  to  this,  in  logic  he's  profound, 
Nor  deigns  t'  amuse  the  ear  with  empty  sound. 
And  he'll  be  happy  too,  Osander  cried, 
i  The  fair  Ophelia  soon  will  be  his  bride : 
!  To  nie  the  joyful  news  last  post  conveyed, 
!  That  he  has  gain'd  the  long  reluctant  maid* 
|  With  her  his  eloquence  had  nearly  fail'd ; 
But  truth  and  perseverance  have  prevail'd. 
Her  brother's  words  a  fix'd  attention  drew, 
And  o?er  her  face  diffus'd  &  crimson  hue. 
M 


134  POEMS. 

Softly  she  'rose,  of  friendship's  self  afraid, 
And  sought  in  haste  the  least  frequented  shade ; 
There,  with  her  head  upon  her  hand  reclin'd. 
She  thus  express?d  the  feelings  of  her  mind : 
Oh  !  I  have  erred  against  common  sense ; 
Unauthorised  love  is  my  offence. 
Yet,  if  I  love,  'tis  with  so  pure  a  flame, 
To  own  it,  need  not  tinge  my  cheek  with  shame. 
Religion,  sense,  and  sentiment,  combined, 
To  fix  the  soft  impression  on  my  mind. 
Is  love  a  full  equivalent  for  love  ? 
And  should  not  worth  the  female  bosom  move  ? 
'Tis  the  best  plea ;  but  neither  should  prevail : 
Henceforth  may  all  their  sep'rate  efforts  fail. 
Virtue,  as  well  as  prudence,  soon  must  blame 
The  least  indulgence  of  this  hapless  flame : 
He'll  soon  be  bound  by  the  most  sacred  ties  ; 
Oh,  may  his  bride  behold  him  with  my  eyes ! 
Then  will  his  faults  evaporate  in  air, 
And  breathing  virtue  in  his  form  appear. 
Amanda,  rouse !  thy  latent  powers  exert^ 
Dispel  the  charm  that  thus  inthnds  thy  heart. 
But  yet  this  heart,  I  trust,  I'll  never  bind, 
In  tender  union,  with  a  meaner  mind. 


POEMS.  135 

Still,  still,  his  image  rises  to  my  view ; 

Where'er  I  turn,  the  phantom  will  pursue. 

Fly,  bright  idea,  thy  intrusions  cease ; 

I  must  resign  thee,  or  resign  my  peace. 

'Tis  vain  to  look  for  vict'ry  without  strife ; 

And  mean,  to  sink  beneath  the  ills  of  life. 

'Tis  arrogant  ourselves  to  overrate, 

And  plead  exemption  from  the  general  fate. 

'Tis  true,  this  heart  no  stoic  maxim  steels ; 

The  little  trembler  most  acutely  feels ; 

But  others  have  their  cares  and  sorrows  borne; 

And  better  hearts  have  been  severely  torn. 

To  seed  committed  to  the  furrow'd  earth 

A  fair  and  plenteous  harvest  owes  its  birth ;        % 

Thus  fruits  divine,  unfading  virtues,  rise 

In 'harrowed  hearts,  when  heaven  the  seed  sup 
plies. 

O,  pleasing  consciousness !  celestial  flame  I 

I  feel  there's  more  in  virtue  than  a  name. 

Thou  precious  emanation  from  above, 

The  blow  that  strengthens  thee,  must  fall  from 
love; 

'Tis  not  the  hand  of  an  avenging  God, 

But  a  kind  father's  salutary  rod. 


136  POEMS. 

To  my  own  folly,  I  can  trace  my  grief, 
And  mean  to  seek  in  wisdom  for  relief. 
Thou  only  wise,  thou  whose  unerring  sight 
Can,  at  a  glance,  distinguish  wrong  from  right, 
O,  lead  my  wandering  steps  in  wisdom's  way ! 
Be  thou  my  guide,  my  guardian,  and  my  stay. 
Thus  tranquilis'd,  Amanda  left  her  seat, 
Prepared  the  soon  expected  guest  to  meet ; 
Prepared,  in  him  a  sister's  part  to  take, 
And  love  Ophelia,  for  her  husband's  sake ; 
Both  for  his  sake,  and  for  her  own  desert : 
She  can't  want  merit,  who  secures  his  heart. 
Amanda  mingles  with  the  bridal  throng, 
Promotes  good  humour,  sings  the  sweetest  song ; 
Not  ev'n  the  lovers  taste  more  true  delight, 
Than  she,  in  acting  and  intending  right. 


POEMS.  137 


ON  SLAVERY. 


AMONG  the  moral  evils  which  disgrace 
The  page  historic  of  the  human  race, 
Slavery  seems  most  to  blacken  the  records ; 
It  militates  against  our  blessed  Lord's 
Divine  instructions.     Is  it  not  a  shame 
For  any  that  assume  the  Christian  name, 
Who  say  the  influence  of  his  blood  extends 
From  sea  to  sea,  to  earth's  remotest  ends, 
To  trade  in  human  flesh,  to  forge  a  chain 
For  those  who  may  with  them  in  glory  reign  ? 
But,  independent  of  the  Christian  light, 
Humanity  is  outrag'd,  every  right 
Of  human  nature  trampled  to  the  ground ; 
By  men  who  deify  an  empty  sound, 
And  call  it  liberty,  or  what  they  please; 
But  God  will  visit  for  such  crimes  as  these. 
Behold  the  fruitful  islands  of  the  main  ; 
Where  sweetness  is  extracted  from  the  cane 
Where  luscious  fruits  in  rich  profusion  grow, 
And  streams  of  milk  and  honey  us'd  to  flow : 
M  2 


138  POEMS. 

The  cords  of  slav'ry  were  so  tightened  there, 

Its  hapless  victims  could  no  longer  bear ; 

But  desperation  work'd  in  every  brain, 

And  gave  them  strength  to  break  the  iron  chain. 

A  scene  of  terror  and  of  blood  ensues  ! 

The  bare  idea  petrifies  the  muse  ! 

Here  is  a  glass :  let  each  oppressing  state 

Forsake  their  practice,  or  expect  their  fate. 

Slavery's  a  very  monster  on  the  earth, 

Which  strangles  every  virtue  in  its  birth : 

From  the  first  dawning  of  the  human  mind, 

Children  should  be  instructed  to  be  kind  ; 

To  treat  no  human  being  with  disdain, 

Nor  give  the  meanest  insect  useless  pain : 

Yet  mark  how  babes  and  sucklings  learn  to  rack, 

And  trample  down,  the  poor  defenceless  black ; 

Their  little  humours  ample  scope  may  have, 

When  only  vented — on  a  wretched  slave. 

God's  image  in  his  creature  they  deride, 

And  daily  grow  in  indolence  and  pride, 

With  ignorance  and  cruelty  combin'd  ; 

A  Slavery  of  the  most  ignoble  kind  ! 

O  ye,  who  make  and  execute  the  laws, 
Exert  your  influence  in  so  good  a  cause ; 


POEMS.  139 

Pursue  with  zeal  some  well-arranged  plan, 
To  stop  this  most  unnat'ral  trade  in  man  : 
This  interesting  object  keep  in  view  : 
Much  has  been  done,  but  much  is  still  to  do. 
Forever  honoured  be  their  names,  who  strive 
To  keep  divine  philanthropy  alive : 
But  horror  seizes  every  feeling  mind, 
To  hear  of  depredation  on  mankind  ! 
Till  this  inhuman  commerce  disappears, 
Our  country  must  claim  kindred  with  Algiers. 
AM  ERICA!  wipe  out  this  dire  disgrace, 
Which  stains  the  brighest  glories  of  thy  face. 
'Twas  thine  against  oppressive  power  to  raise 
A  noble  standard,  and  attract  the  gaze 
Of  the  surrounding  nations,  who  approve 
Thy  arduous  struggle,  rising  from  a  love 
Of  liberty.     Your  rights  you  understood, 
And  rose,  resolv'd  like  men  to  make  them  good; 
Through  every  rank  the  gen'rous  ardour  ran  ; 
The  poorest  lab'rer  feels  himself  a  man. 
COLUMBIA'S  sons  put  forth  their  talents  now ; 
Intrepid  soldiers,  starting  from  the  plough, 
A  virtuous  independence  to  secure, 
Hunger  and  thirst  and  nakedness  endure. 


140  POEMS. 

Such  great  occasions  noble  minds  invite, 
And  bring  conceal'd  abilities  to  light ; 
Consummate  statesmen  in  our  councils  rise, 
Fit  for  their  station,  honest,  brave,  and  wise  ; 
Our  gallant  leaders  in  the  martial  field 
To  neither  Greece  nor  Rome  the  laurels  yield ; 
Nor  were  it  just  to  pass  Columbia's  fair ; 
Who  share  the  burden  should  the  garland  shares 
Thy  charms,  O  Liberty !  their  souls  impress^  . 
Behold  them  patriots  even  in  their  dress ; 
The  graceful  vestments  of  the  most  refin'd, 
By  their  own  hands  have  been  with  pleasure 

twin'd ; 

They  throw  the  shuttle,  and  they  mix  the  dye? 
And  ev'n  the  famed  Spartan  dames  outvie; 
Their  tenderness  and  modesty  retain ; 
Gentle,  not  weak,  they  vigorously  sustain, 
Without  a  murmur,  the  severest  toil ; 
With  their  fair  hands  they  cultivate  the  soil ; 
Expos'd  to  summer's  heat  and  winter's  cold; 
Prepare  the  fuel,  and  attend  the  fold ; 
To  give  the  husband,  brother,  or  the  sire 
To  the  hard  duties  which  the  times  require. 
The  wTorld  can  testify  this  picture  true ; 
From  recent  facts  the  muse  her  colours  drew, 


POEMS.  141 

But  ah !  how  soon  those  glowing  colours  fade  t 

The  sons  of  Afric  form  a  dismal  shade : 

Each  southern  state  unnumbered  slaves  commands, 

Who  steel  their  hearts,  and  enervate  their  hands. 

There  knotted  whips  in  dreadful  peals  resound, 

While  blood  and  sweat  flow  mingled  to  the  ground, 

So  fame  reports,  and  rising  in  her  ire 

She  adds,  that  some  beneath  the  lash  expire. 

Ah  stop !  inhuman !  why  provoke  the  rod, 

The  dreadful  vengeance  of  an  angry  God ! 

Behold  with  trembling  the  outstretched  hand 

Of  incens'd  justice  lifted  o'er  the  land! 

For  crimes  like  yours,  and  their  pernicious  brood, 

(For  these  are  parent-sins,  and  taint  the  blood) 

Malignant  fevers  through  the  land  are  sent, 

:  To  punish  sin,  and  lead  us  to  repent; 
But  if  these  warnings  we  refuse  to  mind, 

i  A  train  of  evils  follow  close  behind ; 

j  If  we  may  credit  God's  eternal  word, 

I  And  those  examples  left  upon  record. 

*  Are  these  the  blest  abodes  of  liberty ! 
Is  this  the  generous  race  that  would  be  free ! 
The  power  to  whom  you  fancied  honours  pay, 
From  scenes  like  these  with  horror  turns  away ! 


142  POEMS. 

Wherever  genuine  liberty  is  found, 
She  copies  heaven  in  shedding  blessings  round. 
Should  not  this  fruitful,  this  salubrious  clime 
Inspire  us  with  the  gen'rous  and  sublime  ? 
Our  hills  appear  for  contemplation  made, 
Our  lofty  forests  form  a  noble  shade ; 
These  seem  the  native  haunts  of  liberty  : 
Was  not  the  wild  unletter'd  Indian  free  ? 
Alas !  the  mournful  truth  must  be  confess'd, 
Ferocious  passions  triumphed  in  his  breast ; 
There  gloomy  superstition's  terrors  reign'd ; 
Insidious  wiles  his  manly  courage  stain'd ; 
While  sloth  and  ignorance  in  fetters  bind 
The  nobler  workings  of  the  savage  mind. 
See  these  by  Europe's  fairer  sons  displac'd, 
With  useful  arts  and  polish'd  manners  grac'd ! 
Now  sturdy  labour,  with  incessant  toil 
Clears  the  rude  wild,  and  cultivates  the  soil, 
As  art's  first  sample  clapboard  roofs  appear ; 
But  soon  a  neat  convenient  house  they  rear ; 
At  length  a  stately  dome  attracts  the  eyes ; 
And  seat  with  seat  in  taste  and  beauty  vies. 
Now  liberal  sciences  the  land  pervade, 
And  philosophic  musings  court  the  shade* 


POEMS.  143 


ind,  "I 

order  bind,  > 

lind.  j 


The  fairest  traits  of  liberty  we  find, 

Where  equal  laws  to  peace  and  order  bind. 

And  true  religion  elevates  the  mind. 

Oh,  slavery !  thou  hell-engender'd  crime ! 

Why  spoil  this  beauteous  country  in  her  prime, 

Corrupt  her  manners,  enervate  her  youth ! 

Blast  the  fair  buds  of  justice,  mercy,  truth ! 

But,  Europe  !  know,  to  thy  eternal  shame, 

From  thee  at  first  this  foul  contagion  came ; 

Before  we  to  a  nation's  stature  grew, 

We  learn'd  this  trade,  this  barb'rous  trade,  from 

you : 

Should  not  we  now  exeit  a  noble  pride, 
And  lay  your  follies,  and  your  crimes,  aside  ? 
Yet  not  so  vain,  or  self-sufficient  be, 
As  not  to  copy  excellence  of  thee. 
How  many  futile  reasons  have  been  given 
For  mixing  God  and  mammon,  sin  and  heaven ! 
Some  say,  they  are  of  Canaan's  cursed  race, 
By  God  ordain'd  to  fill  this  servile  place : 
Was  then  their  lineage  fully  ascertained, 
Before  they  in  the  cruel  hold  were  chain'd  ? 
Before  the  tenderest  ties  of  human  life 
Were  torn  asunder  ;  the  beloved  wife 


144  POEMS. 

Dragg'd   without   mercy  from  her  husband's 

breast, 

And  the  sweet  babes  they  mutually  caress'd, 
Carried  like  cattle; — (Let  it  not  be  told  !) 
By  Christians  too,  to  be  to  Christians  sold  ? 
Their  lineage  prov'd- — it  were  of  no  avail ; 
Here  all  attempts  at  palliation  fail. 
In  Joseph's  case  we  may  a  parallel  see ; 
Sent  into  Egypt  by  divine  decree, 
His  brethren's  evil,  God  intends  for  good, 
Yet  they,  as  guilty,  in  his  presence  stood. 
Some  plead  the  precedent  of  former  times, 
And  bring  example  in,  to  sanction  crimes : 
Greece  had  her  Helots,  Gibeonites  the  Jew ; 
Must  then  Columbia  have  her  Negroes  too! 
By  men  who  by  his  spirit  were  inspired, 
To  teach  us  what  our  blessed  Lord  required, 
Rules  have  been  given  to  regulate  our  lives, 
As  subjects,  husbands,  parents,  children,  wives ; 
Masters  and  servants  due  directions  have ; 
But  show  a  single  lesson  to  a  slave. 
Those  heavenly  doctrines  have  a  liberal  aim, 
And  practised,  soon  would  abrogate  the  name. 


POEMS.  145 

Our  blessed  Lord  descended  to  unbind 
Those  chains  of  darkness  which  enslave  the  mind; 
He  draws  the  veil  of  prejudice  aside, 
To  cure  us  of  our  selfishness  and  pride  : 
These  once  remov'd,  then  Afric's  sable  race 
No  more  among  the  brutal  herd  we  place : 
Are  they  not  blest  with  intellectual  powers, 
Which  prove  their  souls  are  excellent  as  ours  ? 
The  same  immortal  hopes  to  all  are  given, 
One  common  Saviour  and  one  common  heaven. 
When  these  exalted  views  th'  ascendant  gain, 
Fraternal  love  will  form  a  silken  chain, 
Whose  band,  encircling  all  the  human  race, 
Will  join  the  species  in  one  large  embrace. 


N 


146  POEMS. 

LUCINDA. 


THROUGH  shady  groves,  and  flow'ry  greens, 
By  purling  brooks — sweet  sylvan  scenes, 

Lucinda  bends  her  way ; 
Array 'd  in  every  female  grace, 
Her  mind  still  lovelier  than  her  face ; 

There's  none  so  fair  as  she. 

Softness  and  truth  together  join, 
They  in  her  conduct  sweetly  shine, 

In  all  her  ways  they're  seen. 
The  VIRTUES  all  this  maid  befriend ; 
Where  e'er  she  goes  they  all  attend, 

In  an  engaging  train. 

First  gentle  PITY  leads  the  way ; 
With  feeling  heart,  and  glist'ning  eye? 

She  views  the  world  around ; 
Objects  of  mis'ry  strike  the  sight; 
Then  CHARITY,  her  daughter  bright 

Makes  blessings  to  abound. 


POEMS.  147* 

BEKTEV'LENCE  with  extensive  heart 
Views  the  whole  world,  and  in  each  part 

Doth  a  kind  interest  take ; 
Both  black  and  white  do  love  enjoy ; 
Shall  differing  colours  love  destroy, 

Or  vain  distinctions  make  ? 

A  gen'rous  horror  fills  her  mind, 
To  see  man  trading  in  his  kind ; 

That  stain  to  all  the  race ; 
Each  manly  feeling  in  the  slave, 
Buried  in  hard  oppression's  grave  -r 

The  master  still  more  base. 

Next  MODESTY,  quite  free  from  art, 
Doth  an  umivalPd  bloom  impart. 

And  every  look  direct : 
She  has  her  centre  in  the  mind, 
With  ease  and  dignity  combin'd, 

And  must  inspire  respect. 

HUMILITY  doth  sweetly  shine ; 
She's  unassuming  and  benign  ; 

She  dwells  with  Lucy  too ; 
Of  all  the  virtues  none  more  fair, 
Of  all  the  virtues  none  so  rare ; 

She's  known  to  very  few. 


148  POEMS. 

Next,  RESIGNATION happy  breast^ 

The  tenement  of  such  a  guest, 

Religion's  darling  child : 
'Tis  thine  to  soften  human  woes; 
From  thee  a  healing  balsam  flows, 

As  potent  as  'tis  mild. 

At  last  fair  PIETY  appears ; 

A  robe  of  spotless  white  she  wears. 

And  regulates  the  heart ; 
She  takes  her  station  in  the  breast, 
And  wisely  governs  ail  the  rest, 

Appointing  each  her  part. 

MILA. 

MISTAKEN  youth,  in  charity  forbear ; 

And  do  not  tell  young  Mila  she  is  fair ; 

An  altar  to  her  vanity  you  raise, 

And  blast  her  beauty  with  the  breath  of  praise ; 

For  be  assur'd,  she's  little  more  at  best 

Than  a  dull  sod  in  splendid  posies  drest 

Did  you  e'er  see  that  lily  hand  convey 

A  kind  relief  to  helpless  poverty  ? 

Did  you  e'er  see  those  brilliant  eyes  express 

A  soft  concern  for  virtue  in  distress  ? 


POEMS.  149 

Does  piety  that  snowy  bosom  warm, 

And  prudence  keep  the  tender  maid  from  harm  ? 

Ah !  would  to  heaven  you  truly  this  could  say ! 

I  mourn  to  see  a  creature  young  and  gay, 

Whose  fine  exterior  seems  to  be  designed 

As  a  fair  covering  to  a  fairer  mind, 

Neglect  her  talent,  or  else  misapply  ; 

Live  to  as  little  purpose  as  a  fly. 

Or  less  by  far ;  the  difference  lies  here ; 

The  fluttering  insect  fills  its  proper  sphere ; 

While  she  those  precious  hours  in  trifling  spends^ 

On  which  an  immortality  depends. 

Unhappy  maid !  had  you  been  form'd  less  fair. 

You  might  be  more  engaging  than  you  are. 

*Tis  strange  but  true, — beauty  by  beauty's  soiled ; 

And  beauty  here's  by  too  much  beauty  spoil'd, 


N2 


150  POEMS. 

FRANCES  AND  MILA,  A  DIALOGUE. 

FRANCES. 

LISTED  how  the  birds  are  singing. 
Mark  the  flowers,  how  fast  they're  springing ; 
?Tis  the  merry  month  of  May, 
Let  us  then  be  blythe  and  gay. 

MILA. 

LOST  on  me  is  nature's  bloom, 
To  me  the  flower  yields  no  perfume. 
For  beauty  I've  no  eye — for  song  no  ear ; 
Pm  so  disturb'd  I  neither  see  nor  hear. 


FRANCES. 

WH  Y  this  disorder  ?   Mila,  tell  me  why ; 
What  meanf  these  sudden  starts,  that  heavy  sigh  ? 
Alas !   your  sadness  fills  my  eyes  with  dew ! 
I  can  no  more  the  pleasing  landscape  view. 
Why  not  enjoy  your  youth,    since  every  svpin 
Declares  you  are  the  lily  of  the  plain ; 
Or  else  compares  you  to  the  blushing  rose ; 
While  I  am  neither  nam'd  in  verse  nor  prose  ? 


i 

j 


POEMS.  151 

Pm  course  and  swarthy,  have  a  heavy  eye ; 

Yet  playful  lambs  are  not  more  blithe  than  L 

I'm  undepress'd  by  summer's  scorching  heats  ; 

To  me  each  season  brings  its  proper  sweets ; 

In  winter  Pm  regardless  of  the  snow ; 

Its  blustering  winds  invig'rate  as  they  blow, 

And  make  my  blood  in  brisker  currents  flow, 

Autumn  with  fading  flowers  and  falling  leaves 

For  me  a  pleasing  allegory  weaves  ; 

So  this  course  frame  will  sink  into  the  grave, 

And  I  a  finer  vehicle  may  have. 

At  present  Pm  contented  to  appear 

In  this  course  garb — you  see  it  stands  the  wear, 

MILA. 

YOU'D  be  less  happy  were  you  more  refin'd : 
Your  lumpish  form  contains  a  courser  mind ; 
You're  undisturb'd  at  rubs  which  I  declare 
My  nerves  are  quite  too  delicate  to  bear. 
If  you  could  feel,  this  truth  you  should  not  hear ; 
Were  I  like  you,  I  never  would  appear ; 
Not  that  I  wish  to  keep  you  out  of  sight ; 
To  bring  you  forward  is  my  chief  delight : 
I  love  you  'cause  you  can't  my  conquest  spoil ; 
I  love  to  have  you  near  me  as  a  foil* 


152  POEMS/ 

But  there's  Lucinda,  of  her  sight  I'm  tir'd, 
An  ugly  thing,  and  yet  she's  much  admir'd ; 
I'm  sure  she  neither  wit  nor  charms  can  boast, 
And  yet  somehow  she  is  become  a  toast. 
To  you  I'll  own,  tis  like  to  break  my  heart 
To  see  her  dress  so  fine,  and  look  so  smart ; 
To  see  her  chair  beset  with  well  dress'd  beaux, 
While  her  cheek  flushes  like  the  full-blown  rose. 

FRANCES. 

HAS  then  Lucinda  your  enjoyments  spoil'd? 
'Twould  give  her  pain :  she's  all  that's  sweet  and 

mild; 

She's  modest,  unaffected,  and  sincere; 
Still  when  she  speaks  let  me  be  by  to  hear  ; 
She  seems  unconscious  of  superior  charms  ; 
The  purest  friendship  her  fair  bosom  warms. 
Last  night  she  kindly  held  me  by  the  hand, 
And  said,  I  still  her  leisure  might  command. 
Haste,  take  some  potent  drug  that  envy  cures ; 
I  mean  to  be  her  foil  as  well  as  your's. 
For  shame,  for  shame,  this  selfishness  subdue ; 
'Tis  base  tow'rds  her,  and  quite  unworthy  you. 


POEMS.  153 

To  hear  you  praise  and  slight  her,  in  a  breath, 
Excites  my  laughter — pray  restrain  your  wrath. 
Are  these  fine  feelings  ? — to  be  thus  refin'd 
Will  root  out  all  that's  generous  from  your  mind. 

MILA. 

YOU'RE  a  rough  doctor,  Frances:  stop,  I  pray; 
Or  hold  your  peace,  or  something  soothing  say : 
Suppose  Lucinda  worthy  of  regard ; 
Yet  own,  to  love  a  rival's  very  hard. 

FRANCES. 

A  RIVAL  ! — come  your  secret  love  impart: 
I'm  glad  there's  still  some  kindness  at  your  heart. 
Since  men  decide  such  contests  with  their  swords, 
Our  sex  may  be  allow'd  some  hasty  words. 
Your  want  of  candour  I  can  now  excuse ; 
All  will  go  right  when  you  your  reason  use ; 
True  love,  instead  of  narrowing,  must  enlarge ; 
From  self  and  selfish  feelings  you'll  emerge : 
Since  you  have  learn'd  another's  charms  to  own, 
You  can't  be  quite  engrossed  by  your  own. 
But  tell  me  who  has  wrought  the  happy  change  ; 
I'm  lost  in  wonder,  all  I  hear's  so  strange ; 
What  gallant  youth  has  made  your  heart  his  prize? 
Say  who  extorts  those  deep,  those  tender  sighs? 


154  POEMS. 

MlLA. 

You  still  mistake,  my  heart's  entirely  free ; 
The  sighing  tribe  are  all  alike  to  me  ; 
I'm  only  vex'd,  at  every  public  place 
To  meet  Lucinda  in  a  finer  lace  ; 
To  see  the  coxcombs  with  each  other  vie 
To  get  her  seated,  and  attract  her  eye  ; 
To  hear  them  on  her  fancied  charms  descant, 
And  still  the  justness  of  her  judgment  grant. 
Suppose  a  general  (can  you  understand  ?) 
Reduc'd  from  first  to  second  in  command. 
I'm  sick  at  heart !  fast  from  the  world  I'll  fly, 
And  shut  myself  in  some  retreat  and  die ! 

FRANCES. 

AND  I  am  sick  to  see  you  such  a  fool ! 

To  see  such  pride  and  folly  bear  the  rule ; 

To  see  you  jealous  of  a  bit  of  lace: 

Alas !  poor  thing,  your's  is  a  piteous  case ! 

It  seems  your  post  you  have  not  well  maintain  'd, 

Or  how  has  she  so  far  th*  ascendant  gain'd  ? 

It  must  be  due  to  her  superior  skill : 

Reason's  her  guide,  you're  guided  by  your 


POEMS.  1,55 

All  own  you  fairest,  who  have  eyes  to  see ; 
But  in  good  humour  she's  a  queen  to  thee : 
Her  intellectual  beauty  gains  the  prize; 
You're  sometimes  witty,  but  Lucinda  wise. 
Copy  her  sweetness,  with  your  pride  dispense, 
And  exercise  a  little  common  sense: 
To  universal  empire  don't  pretend, 
But  lose  at  once  the  rival  in  the  friend. 

MILA. 

COPY  her  sweetness? — Did  I  rightly  hear ! 
Dare  you  suppose  such  insolence  I'll  bear? 
A  pretty  pattern  !  me — her  copy— me  ! 
But  wherefore  do  I  waste  my  breath  on  thee. 
Amuse  Lucinda  with  your  idle  talk, 
I'll  vise  Melisa's  arm  when  next  I  walk. 

FRANCES. 
. 
AND!  can  walk  with  either  of  the  three, 

Or  by  my  self,  and  still  amused  be. 

In  what  I  said  I  meant  not  to  offend; 

I  only  us'd  the  privilege  of  a  friend; 

But  since  my  well-meant  counsels  only  tease, 

We'll  part,  and  meet  again — just  when  you  please. 


156  POEMS. 

PHILANDER  AND  LUCINDA. 


PHILANDER. 

MY  dearest  sister,  in  this  lonely  grove 
I'll  tell  you  all  the  story  of  my  love ; 
How  first  young  Frances  my  attention  drew; 
How  in  my  breast  the  tender  passion  grew. 
Since  infancy  she  has  familiar  been, 
And  yet,  till  very  lately,  never  seen: 
You  know  she  is  not  form'd  to  strike  the  eye: 
You  must  look  deep  her  beauties  to  espy ; 
But  once  discern'd,  she  pleases  more  and  more ; 
Her  soul's  a  mine  enrich'd  with  golden  ore. 

LUCINDA. 

OUR  SEX  confess  her  merit;  it  procures 

Her  many  friends;  but  you're  the  first  of  your's 

(She  told  me  so  her  self)  that  ever  strove 

To  touch  her  heart,  and  teach  it  how  to  love. 

You  have  that  heart  entire,  a  precious  prize; 

But  then  it's  wrapt  in  an  unsightly  guise ; 

My  witty  Vario  says  it's  out  of  place, 

Like  a  rich  jewel  in  a  homely  case ; 

He  says  my  brother  merits,  could  he  find, 

A  bride  with  MiJa's  face,  and  Fanny's  mind. 


POEMS.  i57 

PHILANDER. 

I  WOULD  not  wish  her  half  a  shade  more  fair ; 
I  like  both  mind  and  person,  as  they  are  : 
She's  all  that's  sweet  and  lovely  to  my  view ; 
Her  happy  temper  makes  me  happy  too  ; 
That  air  of  satisfaction  which  appears 
In  all  she  says,  or  does,  my  bosom  cheers. 
'Tis  not  that  giddy  mirth  that's  soon  forgot, 
Like  crackling  thorns  that  blaze  beneath  the  pot ; 
'Tis  somehow  owing  to  a  heavenly  bent ; 
She  knows  in  every  state  to  be  content. 
That  peaceful  frame  which  lasting  comfort  brings, 
From  patience  hope  and  resignation  springs  ; 
This  gives,  from  gross  and  groveling  thoughts 

refin'd, 

A  holy  elevation  to  her  mind ; 
She  counts  herself  a  bird  of  passage  here, 
And  strives  her  fellow-passengers  to  cheer  : 
In  her  I'm  sure  a  faithful  friend  to  find, 
A  partner  quite  congenial  to  my  mind. — 
O 


!58  POEMS, 

LUCINDA. 

OH ..!  brother,  brother,  once  I  little  thought 
The  charming  Mila  could  be  thus  forgot. 
Tho'.in  the  change  unfeigia'dly  I  rejoice, 
And  own  the  wisdom  of  your  present  choice ; 
Yet  when  I  think  on  Mila's  matchless  grace, 

The  various  beauties  of  her  form  and  face 

Her  features  are  beyond  description  fine  ; 
Her  eyes  with  a  bewitching  lustre  shine  ; 
Her  auburn  locks  in  graceful  ringlets  flow ; 
Her  well-set  teeth  like  polish'd  ivory  grow  ; 
Her  graceful  movements,  and  her    well-turn'd 

arms, 

And  little  hands,  display  a  world  of  charms  ; 
Then  in  complexion,  figure,  and  address, 
She's  more  than  I  have  language  to  express. 

PHILANDER. 

To  ME  these  wondVous  beauties  now  appeal 

As  little  better  than  a  gilded  snare  : 

To  little  arts  she  meanly  can  resort, 

And  make  the  worthiest  subjects  of  her  sport; 

She • : 


t  POEMS.  159 

LUCINDA. 

STOP,  brother,  stop,  enough's  already  said; 
Prithee,  be  tender  of  a  helpless  maid. 
Besides,  the  world,  as  you  have  felt  her  power. 
May  say,  the  disappointment  makes  you  sour. 
You  us'd  to  blush  at  mention  of  her  name ; 
The  dullest  eye  might  read  your  latent  flame  ; 
You  wove  her  name  in  many  a  tender  rhyme ; 
To  her  caprice  you  sacrificed  your  time ; — — 
Nay  more  than  time,  your  honour  and  your  ease  ; 
When  ballanc'd  with  her  pleasure,  what  were 

these? 

Provok'd  beyond  endurance,  you  revile, 
And  swear  she  shall  no  more  your  peace  beguile : 
She  with  a  smile  her  wanderer  could  recall, 
And  toss  you  back  and  forward,  like  a  ball. 

PHILANDER. 

BUT  Frances  no  such  sacrifice  requires  ; 

My  honour  and  my  interest  she  desires. 

Yet  I  to  that  capricious  beauty  owe 

That  I  the  worth  of  charming  Frances  know : 

When  wounded  by  her  proud  companion's  scorn  > 

And  insolence,  that  scarcely  could  be  borne, 


160  POEMS. 

Her  undesigning  goodness  strove  to  heal 

The  bitter  anguish,  I  could  ill  conceal ; 

I  in  her  easy  converse  often  sought, 

And  found,  a  refuge  from  tormenting  thought ; 

At  last  from  Mila's  galling  slavery  free, 

My  Frances  now  is  every  thing  to  me. 


CottFLXCT  WITH 


WHATE'ER's  respectful,  just  or  tender,- 
All  that's  liberal  and  refin'd, 

Bids  my  beating  heart  surrender 
To  the  charms  of  such  a  mind. 

Let  merit  have  its  well-eam'd  tribute; 
Wisdom  ought  to  bear  the  sway : 

Prudence  must  not  this  prohibit; 
'Tis  a  debt  I  love  to  pay. 

Ev'n  a  transient  conversation 
As  a  blessing  let  me  prize; 

A  rich  fund  for  meditation, 
To  make  me  happier  and  more  wise. 


POEMS.  161 

Can  I  keep  the  happy  medium^ 
Taste  the  bliss  yet  shun  the  woe! 

Yet  his  eyes,  if  right  I  read  them? 
Tell  a  tale  I  long  to  know. 

This  I  fear  is  a  delusion; 
What  we  wish  we  fancy  true ; 

Oh !  Pm  covered  with  confusion  2 
That's  a  thought  I  can't  pursue. 

Wherefore  should  I  sigh  or  languish! 
Why  indulge  a  hope  that's  vain! 

Why  lay  up  a  store  for  anguish! 
Love,  and  not  be  lov'd  again. 

'Twas  the  precious  emanations 
Of  a  more  than  common  mind, 

First  inspir'd  these  sweet  sensations , 
Must  they  be  so  soon  resign 'd ! 

Earth  thy  most  exalted  pleasure 
Often  opes  a  door  to  pain ! 

Then,  my  soul,  pursue  that  treasure,, 
Which  forever  shall  remain. 


02 


162  POEMS. 


OCCASIONED  BY  THE  UNEXPECTED  SERENITY 

OF  THE   MORNING. 


SEE !  my  Serenia,  'twas  a  strange  mistake ; 
Imagination  conjured  up  the  storm. 
All  is  serene  !  Th5  unclouded  sun  breaks  forth 
Shedding  a  golden  radiance  o'er  the  plain — 
My  gentle  sister,  we  may  range  abroad 
And  hail  the  balmy  fragrance  of  the  mom. 
Come  let  us  wander  o'er  the  dewy  lawn 
And  lose  ourselves  among  the  sweets  of  nature. 
But  thou  art  lost  in  thought !  Thy  tender  heart 
Is  fondly  wandering  from  the  present  scene 

In  quest  of  thy  lov'd  Mitio 

Or  is  it  busied  making  fond  inquiries 

Where  is  he  now  ?  or  how  is  he  employed  ? 
Celestial  guardians,  hover  round  iny  love? 
Preserve  him  both  in  person  and  in  mind, 
Infuse  pure  thoughts  into  his  gentle  heart, 
And  tune  his  soul  to  virtue*  peace  and  joy, 


POEMS.  163 

I  know  the  pious  breathings  of  thy  soul, 
I  know  what  most  for  Mitio  thou  desir'st. 
O  may  thy  prayers  and  thou  acceptance  find 
Through  man's  prevailing  advocate  in  heaven, 
And  draw  down  blessings  on  thy  husband's  head, 
And  on  the  precious  boy  whose  infant  smiles 
Endear  the  recollection  of  his  sire, 
Sostening  the  pangs  of  necessary  absence. 

Hark !  how  th'  aerial  choristers  pour  forth 
Their  morning  song,  mingling  their  various  notes 

In  pleasing  concert 

>Tis  wild,  indeed,  but  then  'tis  sweetly  wild, 
No  jarring,  no  discordance  in  the  sound. 
See,  how  they  spread  their  variegated  plumes, 
And  raise  their  little  heads  with  conscious  joy  ! 
O  wide-spread  happiness !  O  bounteous  God ! 
There  is  no  chasm  in  thy  vast  creation ; 
All,  all  is  animated,  all  is  fill'd 
With  creatures  suited  to  their  various  ranks, 
All  springing  from,  and  all  sustain'd  by  thee. 

What  permanent  felicity  must  flow    , 
From  union  and  communion  with  a  being 

So  full,  so  perfect,  so but  words  are  poor ; 

What  can  I  say  ? — So  every  thing,  a — GOD  ! 


164  POEMS, 

By  union  here,  I  do  not  simply  mean 
That  all-pervading  influence  which  connects 
Whatever  is  created  to  its  source. 
I  know  there  is  a  sense  in  which  he's  near 

To  every  one  of  us 

"  In  him  we  live,  and  move,  and  being  have/' 
And  from  his  bounty  all  our  mercies  flow. 
Forsaken  but  a  moment,  we  must  sink. 
Must  fall  at  once  irto  primeval  nought. 
The  union  and  communion  in  my  view 
Comprises  this  and  more :  *Tis  a  new  life 
In  which  the  blessed  Spirit  agent  is«. 
It  is  a  turning  of  the  heart  to  God ; 
An  unreserv'd  submission  to  his  will. 
>Tis  call'd  a  transformation  to  the  image 
Of  his  eternal  Son.     O  glorious  change ! 
Peace  through  the  merit  of  his  precious  blood. 
And  access  to  the  Father  by  his  SpYit. 
O  wonderful  access !  O  blessed  change ! 
From  death  to  life!  Dead  bodies  are  unconscious; 
The  soul  that's  dead,  feels  not  its  lost  estate. 
That  power  which  shall  hereafter  break  the  torn 
And  raise  our  slumbering  bodies  from  the  dust, 
Performs  as  great  a  work  on  every  souL 


us; 
bs, 


POEMS.  165 

He  raises  from  the  ruins  of  the  fall, 

Restores  to  life,  to  spiritual  existence, 

And  feeds,  and  leads  in  the  strait  way  to  heaven* 

This,  this  Serenia,  this  is  life  indeed ; 

This  is  communion  with  th'  Eternal  Three, 

With  God  the  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost, 

This,  to  obtain,  should  be  our  daily  pray'r, 

Both  for  ourselves,  and  those  we  most  affect : 

This  to  obtain,  should  we  not  hourly  strive, 

Knowing  our  labours  will  not  prove  in  vain  ? 

Knowing  God  works  in  us  to  will  and  do 

Of  his  good  pleasure,  should  we  not  then  pray  ? 

Knowing  his  ear  is  open  to  our  cry 

And  that  whoever  asks  aright  receives 

Through  sovereign  grace,  a  suitable  supply. 

O  for  the  lively  exercise  of  faith ! 

True  faith  gives  holy  confidence  in  prayer. 

Believers  have  an  advocate  in  heaven, 

A  mediator  to  enforce  their  prayers, 

Or  rather  say,  to  claim  in  their  behalf 

The  Blessings  he  hath  purchas'd  by  his  blood. 

Doth  not  his  righteousness,  his  suffering  life, 

And  agonizing  death,  join  in  the  just  demand  ? 


166  POEMS. 

While  kind  compassion  in  Immanuel's  breast? 
Is  still  an  exercise.     O  deep-laid  plan ! 
How  powerful !  how  beneficent !  how  pure ! 
It  bears  the  stamp,  the  signature  of  heav'n; 
The  law  is  highly  honour'd  in  the  sight 
Of  all  intelligences;  sin  condemned, 
And  yet  through  tender  mercy  sinners  sav'd. 

Now  let  us  turn  our  eyes  upon  the  cross, 
And  with  abhorrence  turn  from  ev'ry  sin. 
Did  justice  call  for  such  a  sacrifice  ? 
And  shall  we  cherish,  shall  we  count  it  sweet? 
This  were  a  terrible  abuse  of  grace, 
A  dreadful  trampling  on  the  blood  of  Christ, 
The  Scripture  warns  us  not  to  be  deceived : 
"  Who  sow  unto  the  flesh  corruption  reap," 
Let's  view  the  dreadful  catalogue  of  crimes, 
The  native  product  of  the  carnal  mind ; 
Then  seek  deliv'rance  from  that  vile  estate. 
Behold,  the  bright  reverse,  a  fair  assemblage, 
Of  heav'n-implanted  virtues  clustering  grow, 
Fruits  of  the  spirit- these,  love,  joy  and  peace. 
Whate'er  is  lovely,  true,  of  good  report, 
Begun  on  earth  and  perfected  in  heav'n, 


POEMS.  167 

Flows  from  this  blessed  union,  this  access 

To  God,  by  Christ,  that  new  and  living  way 

Under  th'  influence  of  the  Holy  Ghost. 

O  the  sweet  intercourse,  the  happy  tie  ! 
O  gainful  commerce  at  the  court  of  heav'n ! 
Then  why  my  heart,  ah  why !  so  seldom  there  ? 
O  glorious  privilege !  to  be  allow'd 
To  draw  down  blessings  from  the  source  of  bliss, 
To  drink  with  freedom  at  th'  eternal  fount ; 
This  is  the  living  water,  this  the  well 
Whence  true  believers  draw  immortal  life. 
Then  why  art  thou  impov'rish'd  thus,  my  soul  ? 
And  why  thy  graces  of  such  slender  growth  ? 
The  fault  is  all  my  own ;  I  live  below 
The  kind  provision  of  our  gracious  Lord, 
For  present  use,  as  well  as  future  joy. 
Is  there  in  Christ,  a  fulness  that  ov'rflows, 
T'  enrich  his  purchas'd  people  when  mature  ? 
And  are  his  minors  destitute  of  means, 
Of  education  for  th'  important  posts, 
They're  call'd  to  fill  in  a  sublimer  scene  ? 
We  basely  prize  the  husk  before  the  grain ; 
We  vainly  strive  to  feed  our  deathless  souls 
With  sensual  food.     Unskilful  nurses !  left 


168  POEMS. 

Unto  our  care,  they  sicken  or  they  starve. 
Barr'd  by  our  blessed  Master  from  our  bane 
We  deem  his  service  rigid  and  austere ; 
But  Jesus  gives  his  children  better  food  ; 
And  they  who  best  digest  must  faster  grow. 
He  feeds  his  people  with  the  bread  of  life, 
Of  which  those  who  partake  shall  never  die. 
He  is  himself  the  bread  and  he  the  wine ; 
And  O  how  warm  he  presses  to  the  feast, 
"  Eat,  O  my  friends !  and  drink,  O  my  belov'd ! 
"  My  flesh  is  meat,  my  blood  is  drink  indeed.'5 
Quaff  freely  this  exhilarating  draught, 
Nor  fear  intoxication  ;   'tis  thy  life. 
Reason  by  this  is  brighten'd,  not  obscur'd : 
A  heavenly  light  breaks  in  upon  the  mind ; 
Or  rather  mental  vision  thus  restor'd 
Receives  with  extacy  the  light  from  heav'n. 
O  what  a  Master  !  what  a  Lord  is  here ! 
His  flesh,  his  blood,  his  spirit,  all  are  given, 
T'  enrich  our  souls  and  make  them  meet  for 
heav'n. 


POEMS.  169 

A  MOURNING  PIECE. 

'TIS  evening ;  how  all  Nature  is  serene ; 

The  time  glides  imperceptibly  away  ; 
While  Fancy's  powerful  magic  shifts  the  scene, 

Under  her  guidance  let  the  muses  stray. 

By  her  transported  to  my  native  plains, 
I  there  survey  the  ravages  of  Time  ; 

Fain  would  the  muse  burst  forth  in  unknown 

strains, 
Mingling  the  pensive,  moral,  and  sublime* 

In  order  to  give  utt 'ranee  to  the  heart, 
And  its  emotions  faithfully  pourtray, 

She  need  not  study  frigid  rules  of  art, 
But  Nature's  gentler  influence  obey. 

Oh  Death !  I  contemplate  thy  meagre  form ! 

If  that  may  form  be  call'd  which  is  a  void ; 
Thou  servile  pander  to  the  greedy  worm, 

How  many  victims  has  thy  dart  destroy 'd ! 


170  POEMS. 

Where's  now  the  man*  of  philosophic  mind, 

That  to  no  mode  of  thinking  was  confin'd  ? 

Who  his  own  track  delighted  to  pursue, 

Explode  old  systems  and  bring  forward  new  ? 

A  man  of  such  diversified  parts^ 

He  understood,  untaught,  mechanic  arts ; 

His  mind  through  varsious  channels  knowledge 

sought ; 

He  very  little  spoke  but  much  he  thought. 
Where  is  he  now  ?  in  some  congenial  sphere ; 
But  where  it  lies,  hereafter  will  appear. 

But  soft !  I  hear  the  plaintive  sound  of  woe  ! 

It  seems  to  issue  from  a  breaking  heart ; 
I  know  that  voice  ;   the  mournful  cause  I  know;^ 

And  consolation  gladly  would  impart. 

The  charming  youthf  had  just  attained  his  prime ; 

Was  his  fond  father's  hope,  his  mother's  joy  I  j 
When  the  sharp  scythe  of  hasty-footed  Time, 

Did  all  these  hopes,  these  flatt'ringhopesdestroy  I 

Muse  !  not  so  fast — a  source  of  comfort's  given; 
His  end  was  both  instructive  and  sublime ; 

*  J H ,  Esq. 

t  The  Eldest  Son  of  the  Rev,  S W 


POEMS.  171 

In  the  near  prospect  of  a  blissful  heav'n, 

He  spoke  the  language  of  that  glorious  clime. 

He  mourn'd  the  follies  incident  to  youth, 
But  fix'd  his  hopes  upon  a  Saviour's  name  : 

His  knowledge  in  the  oracles  of  truth 

Might  make  his  seniors  hang  their  heads  with 
shame : 

Of  patience  in  excruciating  pain, 

He  thence,  the  best  example  brings  to  view  -r 
What  anguish  did  our  blessed  Lord  sustain  ! 

To  whom  all  power  and  glory  is  the  due. 

Now  let  us  view  the  consecrated  spot, 

Where  weeping  friends  deposited  his  clay,; 

Nor  let  that  solemn  lesson  be  forgot, 

Which  well  the  Christian  and  the  sire  pourtray . 

Ah!  where  is  now  that  gentle,  generous  mind,  * 
Which  once  presideelp'er  yon  neat  abods  ? 

The  man  of  morals  pure,  and  taste  refin'd, 
The  lover  of  his  country  and  his  God ! 

Alas !  the  widow's  wail,  the  orphan's  moan, 
Succeed  the  pleasant  notes  of  love  and  joy ! 
»  MV.  j —  x — . 


172  POEMS. 

From  heart  to  heart  responds  the  heavy  groail, 
While  tears  of  anguish  stream  from  every  eye* 

Both  of  a  frugal  and  a  generous  mind, 
Careful,  not  sordid  in  the  least  degree ; 

In  him,  good  sense  and  prudence  were  combined-, 
From  aught  that  look'd  like  ostentation,  free* 

Oh !  he  was  peaceful,  temperate  and  humane, 
Each  modest  virtue  made  his  breast  its  seat ; 

He  IhM  a  blessing  to  the  rural  plain ; 

He  died ;  his  xnem'ry  must  be  ever  sweet. 


ON  THE  MARRIAGE  OF  MR.  H — • — 9  TO 
Miss  M'C . 


O !   FOR  a  s\veeter,  gentler  strain ! 
Muses  !  ope  your  sprightliest  vein  ! 
Let  fragrance  breathe  from  ev'ry  flow'r, 
With  which  ye  strew  the  nuptial  bow'r. 
May  benignant  pow'rs  preside 
O'er  the  bridegroom  and  the  bride  ; 


POEMS.  173 

Guard  them  through  this  vale  of  tears. 
Raise  their  hopes  and  calm  their  fears  ! 
May  the  lover  taste  delight 
As  his  sparkling  genius  bright ; 
Solid  blessings  which  endure, 
As  his  spotless  morals  pure  ! 
May  the  fair  one's  gentle  breast 
Be  the  seat  of  peace  and  rest ; 
There  may  ev'ry  virtue  blend  ; 
The  tender  wife,  the  faithful  friend ! 
Love,  cemented  by  esteem, 
Is  no  visionary  dreamr 
Which,  on  wak'ning,  fades  away  : 
But  its  soul  enlivening  ray 
Sweetens  life  through  every  stage ; 
Brightens  youth  and  comforts  age, 
>Tis  a  principle  of  love, 
Fits  us  for  the  realms  above, 


P  2 


174  POEMS. 

To  ANNA, 


TELL  me,  Anna,  canst  thou  find 
Real  tranquility  of  mind  ? 
Where  it  is  I  fain  would  know, 
That  I  may  seek  and  find  it  too. 

Is  it  with  the  light  and  gay, 

Who  laugh,  and  sing,  and  dance  and  play? 

Alas !  my  friend,  too  oft  we  find 

A  smiling  face  and  bleeding  mind  ! 

Shall  those  who  are  morose  and  grave 
Such  a  precious  treasure  have  ? 
Can  they  enshrine  a  guest  so  bright, 
Whose  very  looks  repel  delight? 

Is  this  bright  jewel  then  design'd, 
For  creatures  of  a  haughty  mind  ? 
Do  the  lofty,  proud  and  high, 
Real  tranquility  enjoy  ? 

No,  my  friend ;  it  cannot  be : 
They  with  its  nature  disagree; 


POEMS.  175 

For  haughty-minded  mortals  crave 
Blessings  they  can  never  have. 

We  may  seek  with  more  success 
Among  the  meek  for  happiness; 
They,  who  their  hearts  and  lives  have  given 
Into  the  moulding  hand  of  heaven : 

They  whose  gen'rous  hearts  can  feel, 
Nor  that  alone,  but  strive  to  heal 
A  neighbour's  wounds  ;   and  kindly  try, 
To  wipe  the  tear  from  sorrow's  eye. 

And  what  is  nobler  still  than  this, 
They  know  to  taste  another's  bliss ; 
The  circle  of  their  joy  extends, 
Who  share  the  pleasure  of  their  friends. 

But  O !  what  peace  pervades  the  breast 
That  looks  beyond  this  world  for  rest ! 
To  such,  the  purest  joys  are  given, 
In  foretastes  of  a  future  heaven, 


176  POEMS. 


AN  ADIEU  TO  THE  PLACE  OF  MY  NATIVITY*. 


FAREWELL,  ye  much-16v'd  scenes  of  youth 

And  childhood's  careless  days ! 
Where  first  I  sought  the  God  of  truth 

To  regulate  my  ways. 

Where  first  I  felt  the  cheering  glow 

Of  friendship's  sacred  flame, 
That  sweetest  blessing  here  below. 

And  purest,  mortals  claim. 

Here  dwelt  my  much  revered  sire, 

Whom  memory  still  holds  dear! 
Nor  do  I  longer  days  desire 

Than  I  his  name  revere ! 

He  liv'd,  he  breath'd  within  these  walls, 

Sole  lord  of  the  recess: 
Now  to  another's  hand  it  falls: 

All's  change,  all's  change,  alast 


POEMS.  177 

Farewell,  ye  much-lov'd  haunts  of  youth  ! 

But  not  a  last  adieu ; 
May  virtue,  innocence,  and  truth, 

Fix  their  abode  in  you. 

Oft  let  me  to  that  church  return, 

Where  rests  my  Fathers's  clay. 
And  steal  a  look  at  his  dear  urn 

Before  I  go  away. 


LlNES   OCCASIONED  BY   THE  DEATH   OF   THE 

REV.  W.  M -. 


ALAS !  he's  gone !  he's  mingled  with  the  dead! 
That  stedfast,  warm  and  soaring  spirit's  fled ! 
Which  nor  persuasion's  art,  nor  interest's  force, 
Could  turn  aside  from  its  determined  course. 
Now  streaming  tears  bedew  his  sable  urn  ; 
His  much-lov'd  flock  their  faithful  pastor  mourn; 
Who  as  a  father  for  their  welfare  car'd, 
Nor  mind,  nor  body,  in  their  service  spar'd. 
In  sep'rate  beds  we  mighty  rivers  find, 
Which  soon  in  the  same  ocean  are  combin'd ; 


178  POEMS. 

Thus  holy  men  of  every  sect  and  name 
By  different  means  at  the  same  object  aim ; 
Since  the  great  end  of  every  pious  plan 
Must  be  God's  glory,  and  the  good  of  man. 

Those  leading  features  in  the  human  frame 
Which  designate  the  species,  are  the  same ; 
Yet  what  diversity  in  shape  and  hue 
Must  strike  the  eye,  upon  a  closer  view  ? 
Let  us  with  awe  and  admiration  trace 
That  fair  variety  in  form  and  face,  i> 

Which  marks  the  individual  from  the  race ;      J 
And  in  the  wide  diversified  plan, 
Infinite  power,  unbounded  wisdom,  scan. 
From  the  same  elements  we  all  derive 
That  nourishment  by  which  we  grow  and  thrive : 
Thus  Christians  live  by  the  same  heavenly  bread ; 
And  the  same  love,  the  love  of  God,  must  shed 
Through  every  breast  its  renovating  flame,  . 
In  essence,  and  in  tendency,  the  same. 
Christians  pay  homage  to  one  common  Lord, 
And  found  their  systems  on  his  written  wrord, 
In  which  there's  no  deficiency  of  light ; 
The  imperfection's  in  the  human  sight ; 
This  thought  for  mutual  sympathy  ohould  call, 
Since  there  are  errors  and  mistakes  in  all. 


POEMS.  179 


TRUTH — AN  ALLEGORY. 


YOUNG  DAMON  is  the  blithest  swain 
That  sports  upon  the  velvet  plain. 
The  rural  hero  ne'er  repin'd 
At  hardship  of  the  manual  kind ; 
Ne'er  look'd  on  labour  as  a  curse, 
Or  measured  merit  by  the  purse. 
The  patient  and  industrious  bee 
Is  not  more  diligent  than  he ; 
Nor  can  with  greater  skill  contrive 
To  bear  its  treasure  to  the  hive, 
Than  Damon  to  enrich  his  mind, 
With  stores  more  precious  and  refin'd. 
From  mother  earth  he  draws  his  wealth, 
And  owes  to  exercise  and  health 
His  manly  air,  and  roseate  hue ; 
His  eyes,  the  clear  ethereal  blue, 
By  art  were  never  taught  to  roll ; 
Through  these  you  may  disceni  his  soul : 
That  vigorous  soul  is  unconfin'd 
By  prejudice  of  any  kind : 


180  POEMS. 

Enamoured  in  his  early  youth 
With  the  celestial  form  of  TRUTH, 
He  sought  with  zeal  the  radiant  maid ; 
He  woo'd  her  in  the  lonely  shade : 
For  her  he  climbs  the  craggy  steep, 
He  seeks  her  in  th'  unfathcnYd  deep : 
Tho'  oft  obscured  from  his  view, 
Her  faithful  votary  fhiJs  a  clue, 
By  which  her  steady  steps  are  trac'd ; 
And  oft  her  deathless  form's  embraced. 
A  lowering  dame  with  visage  grim, 

Upon  a  day,  accosted  him : 

Fond  youth,  thy  fruitless  search  forbear ; 
Why  languish  for  a  fancied  fair  ? 
The  good  you  seek  you'll  never  find ; 
She's  but  a  creature  of  the  mind. 
You  strive  to  catch  an  empty  sound, 
For  TRUTH  is  no  where  to  be  found. 
Madam,  if  there  be  nothing  true, 
Sure  nothing  w,  then  what  are  you  ? 
Such  gloomy  counsel  let  me  shun  ; 
You're  like  a  cloud  before  the  sun  : 
But  peeping  through  thy  envious  shade, 
Lo !  I  behold  my  charming  maid ! 


POEMS.  181 

A  form  indeed  his  eye  had  caught, 
But  not  the  peerless  nymph  he  sought ; 
Smooth  was  her  brow,  her  visage  fair, 
She  met  him  with  a  winning  air  ; 
Soft  was  her  voice,  her  aspect  mild, 
And  as  she  spake,  she  sweetly  smil'd. 
Come,  gentle  youth,  (she  fondly  cries, 
With  melting  languor  in  her  eyes,) 
I'll  lead  thee  to  a  peaceful  shade 
Which  gloomy  doubt  shall  ne'er  pervade  ; 
But  beams  from  me  reflected  are 
As  strong  as  mortal  eye  can  bear. 

Then  follow  me The  youth  obey'd, 

And  follows  the  delusive  maid. 

By  various  devious  paths  they  stray, 

Through  which  she  gently  clears  his  way  : 

Till  on  an  open  plot  of  ground 

She  draws  a  magic  circle  round. 

Pride  like  a  stately  tree  arose, 

With  hollow  trunk  and  spreading  boughs  ; 

With  mimic  fruit  these  boughs  were  hung. 

The  birds  among  the  branches  sung  ; 

While  human  voices  join  the  choir, 

And  set  young  Damon's  heart  on  fire. 

Q 


182  POEMS. 

For  still  the  sweetest  tunes  they  raise, 

In  sonnets,  full  of  Damon's  praise. 

That  nothing  ill  may  shock  his  sight, 

She  ne'er  admits  too  strong  a  light ; 

But  scattered  sun-beams  faintly  play, 

And  shed  abroad  a  milder  day. 

Sweet  streams  of  self-complacence  flow, 

And  flowers  of  rhetoric  gaily  blow  ; 

With  these  she  crowns  th'  enamour'd  youth, 

And  fills  his  arms  with  fancied  truth ; 

Who,  to  his  bosom  holds  the  cheat, 

And  deems  his  happiness  complete. 

TRUTH,  seated  on  a  chrystal  throne, 

Which  with  transcendent  glory  shone, 

Shot  from  her  eye  a  lucid  beam, 

That  broke  young  Damon's  golden  dream. 

The  youth  in  an  indignant  heat 

Turns  with  abhorrence  from  DECEIT  ; 

Avaunt!  delusive  form!  he  cries  ; 

You  don't  contain  the  good  I  prize  : 

Thine  is  a  thin,  external  white, 

But  she  I  seek,  is  full  of  light : 

Thy  streams  with  vain  ideas  fraught 

Are  deadly. foes  to  sober  thought 


POEMS.  183 

Haste  !  take  this  chaplet  from  my  brow  ! 

I  scorn  thy  empty  honours  now. 

My  heavenly  Mistress  shall  dispense 

The  flowrers  of  modesty  and  sense. 

With  these  my  temples  Ml  entwine 

And  prize  a  garland  so  divine. 

I  see  approach  my  spotless  fair ! 

I  breathe  a  purer,  fresher  air  ! 

Doubt  vanishes  before  her  beams, 

And  every  object's  what  it  seems* 

O  come  !  celestial  beauty,  come ! 

Thy  lips  drop  incense  and  perfume  I 

Let  me  enshrine  thee  in  my  heart, 

And  stream  from  thence  through  every  part ! 


To  Miss  R. 


INGENIOUS  artist]  thou  whose  magic  hand, 
With  mimic  life  bids  the  rude  canvass  glow ; 

See !  at  thy  touch  the  flowers  of  spring  expand 
Their  beauteous  leaves,  regardless  of  the  snow; 


134  POEMS. 

Thy  strong  imagination,  active  power ! 
Retraces  every  tint  of  the  long- withered  flower. 

Ah !  why  should  cruel  disappointment  blast 

The  bud  of  genius,  its  aspirings  chill ! 
The  brightest  day  sometimes  is  overcast ; 

From  low 'ring  clouds  refreshing  rains  distill : 
And,  as  the  sun  breaks  tlirough  th?  impending 

gloom, 

So  on  thy  brow  the   wcll-earn'd   wreath    shall 
bloom, 

It  is  not  sure  in  fortune  to  repress 
The  energies  of  such  a  soul  as  thine ; 

I  know  thou'lt  rise  superior  to  distress, 
As  the  hot  furnace  doth  the  gold  refine ; 

And,  as  the  gold  comes  purer  from  the  flame, 

So  shall  thy  virtues  and  thy  spotless  name. 

Song,  youth,  and  beauty,  Young's*  fair  fav'rite's 
boast, 

In  sweet  assemblage  all  unite  in  thee ; 
But,  in  the  whirl  of  time,  these  must  be  lost : 

'Tis  this,  which  sets  the  stamp  of  vanity 
On  sublunary  blessings  ;  but  the  soul 
Shall  last,  when  suns  and  seasons  cease  to  roll. 

*  Doctor    Young. 


POEMS.  185 

So  well  endowed,  'twere  impious  to  complain ; 
Bless  then  the  Power,  that  has  such  talents 

given ; 
And  rise  superior  to  th'  applause  of  man, 

Fixing  your   hopes,    your  dearest  hopes  on 

heav'n : 

The  Painter  and  the  Poet's  crown  are  thine, 
To  these,    accomplish'd  maid,    the  Christian^ 
join. 


WRITTEN  AT  THE  REQUEST  OF  A  LADY,  INT 
THE  ABSENCE  OF  HER  HUSBAND  AND 
CHILD. r 


FOR  you  sweet  babe  these  lines  are  penn'd* 
They  come  from  an  endearing  friend ; 
>Tis  from  a  mother's  heart  they  flow, 
A  heart  oppress'd  with  grief  and  woe ! 
My  husband's  absent  from  my  arms ; 
My  beauteous  infant's  opening  charms 
Q2 


186  POEMS, 

No  more  delight  my  ravish'd  eye ; 

For  her  I  heave  the  secret  sigh ! 

But  why  lament  my  absent  dear  ? 

Don't  she  enjoy  a  father's  care  ? 

A  father,  whose  delight  is  plac'd 

In  the  sweet  child,  and  sees  her  grac'd 

With  every  charm  that  can  engage. 

In  one  of  Harriot's  tender  age. 

And  when  she  sense  enough  attains, 

To  profit  by  parental  pains, 

Our  mutual  care  shall  be  combin'd, 

To  make  her  both  in  form  and  mind, 

A  pattern  of  each  female  grace. 

May  heaven  our  fond  endeavours  bless ! 

To  THE  MEMORY  OF  MR.  O P 


MY  muse  laments  the  woes  of  private  life  : 
Not  blood-stain'd  battle,  war's  horrific  strife, 
Provokes  her  daring ;  but  the  peaceful  swain, 
Whose  timeless  fate  with  sorrow  dews  the  plain, 


POEMS.  187 

Awakes  to  solemn  sounds  the  fun'ral  lyre, 
While  grief  and  pity  plaintive  lays  inspire. 
Sure  some  celestial  pow'r  his  soul  sustain'd, 
While  dire  disease  his  manly  vigour  drain'd ; 
Drank  up  his  spirit,  dimm'd  his  radient  eye : 
They  suffer  much,  who  thus  by  inches  die. 
But  who  conceives  the  happiness  prepared, 
The  palm  of  victory,  the  divine  reward, 
Which  waits  the  faithful  Christian  on  that  shore, 
Where  sin  and  sorrow,  pain  and  death's  no  more  ? 
Weep  not,  ye  friends !  indulge  no  bitter  sighs  J 
Why  mourn  his  elevation !  let  him  rise. 
But  oh !  his  children,  his  bereaved  mate, 
Left  in  a  widow'd,  and  an  orphan  state  ! 
These  your  condolence  claim,  your  care  indeed ; 
Give  them  that  tenderness  he  cannot  need. 


188  POEMS. 

ASPASIA. 


THE  Young  Aspasia,  like  an  op'ning  rose? 
Which  to  the  morn  its  beauties  doth  disclose, 
Serenely  smiles  in  the  gay  morn  of  life, 
Thoughtless  of  dangers,  sorrows,  care,  or  strife ; 
With    friends   and   fortune,    fame   and  beauty 

bless'd ; 

Of  all  beloved,  and  of  all  caress'd ; 
In  sweet  delight  she  spends  each  happy  day, 
And  time  smiles  on  her  as  it  wings  away. 
Take  heed,  sweet  nymph,  before  it  be  too  late ; 
Upon  a  firmer  basis,  fix  thy  fate : 
These  things  seem  strong,  yet  they  might  chance 

to  break, 

And,  if  you  please,  I'll  prove  them  all  but  weak. 
First,  then,  what's  riches,  but  a  glittering  snare, 
Which  often  leads  in  paths  that  vicious  are? 
And  what  is  fame?  'tis  bright  but  brittle  too; 
>Tis  priz'd  by  all,  yet  gain'd  but  by  a  few* 
Then  cries  Aspasia,  whither  shall  I  fly  ? 
On  what  lay  hold  in  this  extremity  ? 


POEMS.  189 

Lay  hold  on  piety ;  let  prudence  guard 

Thy  actions  all,  and  as  a  rich  reward 

Thou  shalt  have  friends  and  fortune,  beauty,  fame, 

And  love  from  all  who  merit  your  esteem. 

For  good  behaviour,  you  will  always  find, 

Is  the  fair  offspring  of  a  virtuous  mind. 

Should  baleful  envy  try  your  fame  to  blight, 

Your  conduct  still  will  prove  you  in  the  right ; 

Or  even  though  a  false  malicious  tongue 

Should  make  the  world  believe  you  in  the  wrong ; 

Yet  still  your  conscious  innocence  will  be 

A  secret  sweet  which  nought  can  take  away. 

Your  friends  too  will  be  of  the  noblest  kind, 

Not  link'd  unto  your  fortune,  but  your  mind  : 

These  will  remain,  when  sunshine  flatt'rers  fly, 

Close  join'd  to  you  by  eveiy  tender  tie. 

If  you  are  virtuous,  surely  you  are  fair; 

Virtue  is  beauty  in  its  highest  sphere; 

Its  charms  will  last  when  faces  can't  engage, 

And,  what's  more  strange,  grow  lovelier  for  its  age, 

And  as  for  riches,  I  shall  quickly  show 

How  even  these  kind  virtue  can  bestow : 

If  you  have  beauty,  freinds,  and  fame,  Frn  sure 

You're  rich  enough,  and  need  not  covet  more* 


190  POEMS. 


AN  ELEGY.     OCCASIONED  BY  THE   SUDDEN 

DEATH   OF  W. 


O !   SAVE  the  muse  from  such  a  painful  theme ! 
Let  me  awake,  and  find  it  but  a  dream ! 
Shadows  and  death  are  hov'ring  in  my  view ! 
But  ah !  the  vision  is  too  sadly  true ! 
My  head  grows  giddy,  anguish  and  surprise 
Make  every  object  swim  before  my  eyes* 
Well  may  this  world  be  calPd  a  passing  show  j 
Sure  there  is  no  reality  but  woe  ! 
Impious  thought !  let  reason  check  its  rise ; 
Our  sorrows  are  as  transient  as  our  joys. 

May  the  vicissitudes  of  fortune  tend, 

The  smiles  that  cheer  us,  and  the  pangs  that 

rend, — 

To  fit  us  for  our  first  and  highest  end  ! 
Nothing  on  earth  can  boast  a  lasting  date, 
Save  what's  connected  with  a  future  state. 

*  He  fell  from  his  waggon,  while  at  work  in  the  field— one 
of  the  wheels  passed  over  his  head,  and  he  soon  expired.  This 
happened  on  the  13th  June,  1805,  and,  the  third  day  after,  this 
piece  was  handed,  to  have  a  place  in  this  collection.  An  evi 
dence  with  what  facility  the  authoress  clothes  her  excellent  sen 
timents  in  a  poetic  dress.  Editor. 


POEMS.  191 

How  vain,  how  futile,  are  our  worldly  schemes  I 
Life's  brightest  prospects  fade  away  like  dreams! 
Our  fondest  hopes  are  blasted ;  how  we  rave ! 
Are  sooth'd,  then  sink  into  one  common  grave. 
See  yon  fair  mourner,  who  so  lately  prov'd 
The  bliss  to  love,  and  know  herself  belov'd ; 
A  happy  wife  and  mother,  in  the  morn, 
Ere  night,  a  widow  wretched  and  forlorn  ! 
The  joy,  the  pride,  the  glory  of  her  eyes, 
A  pale  and  breathless  corpse  before  her  lies ! 
Snatch'd  in  his  vigour,  not  a  moment  given, 
To  bid  adieu,  or  raise  his  heart  to  heaven. 
But  let  me  here  the  forward  muse  controul. 
Who  knows  the  breathings  of  his  parting  soul  ? 
But  sure  the  living  should  such  deaths  regard 
As  calls  to  be  habitually  prepar'cl. 
Is  it  in  sympathy  to  draw  the  dart, 
Which  has  transfix 'd  his  faithful  partner's  heart  ? 
Ah  !  whither  shall  I  go  ?  she  wildly  cries : 
Here  every  object  brings  him  to  my  eyes : 
See  !  all  around  is  flourishing  and  fair, 
The  fruit  of  his  great  industry  and  care. 
But  he,  the  life  by  which  I  liv'd,  is  fled ! 
My  dearest  William's  mingled  with  the  dead  ! 


192  POEMS. 

Oh !  had  I  been  allow'd  to  see  him  die, 

Hear  his  last  words,  and  catch  his  parting  sigh ! 

The  mournful  recollection  would  be  sweet : 

But  now  his  voice  my  ear  will  never  greet : 

And  yet  this  heart  continues  still  to  beat. 

Now,  the  first  shock  beginning  to  subside, 

Reason  again  the  mental  helm  would  guide. 

She  strives  to  conquer  unavailing  woe ; 

But  still  the  sigh  bursts  forth,  the  tear  will  flow. 

Still  there  are  duties  of  a  sacred  kind, 

To  exercise  her  body  and  her  mind. 

The  fruits  of  virtuous  love,  a  helpless  pair, 

Deprived  of  a  worthy  father's  care ; 

These  twin-born  babes  her  first  attention  claim, 

Who  just  begin  to  lisp  their  father's  name. 

That  heart,  which  us'd  to  vibrate  at  the  sound, 

Their  artless  prattle  now  must  deeply  wound. 

Yet  would  she  not  these  agonies  forego, 

But  finds  a  kind  of  luxury  in  woe. 

Alternately  she  holds  them  to  her  breast, 

Who  late  were  to  his  manly  bosom  press'd. 

In  their  infantine  features  strives  to  trace 

The  lineaments  of  her  lov'd  William's  face. 


POEMS.  193 

May  God  preserve  and  bless  her  precious  charge, 
And  with  her  griefs  her  fortitude  enlarge ! 
Support  her  weakness  by  his  strength  divine, 
And  teach  reluctant  nature  to  resign ! 


A  FRAGMENT. 


NOW  budding  nature,  sweet  ambrosial  spring, 
Opens  her  stores  and  gives  the  rising  blade ; 
The  fast-expanding  leaf;    the  smiling  flower, 
Unfolds  its  beauteous  bosom,  to  receive 
The  pearly  dewdrop,  glittering  like  a  gem 
Of  precious  price,  but  vanished  at  the  grasp  ; 
Like  half  the  transient  pleasures  men  pursue. 
Nature's  a  book :  and  e'en  the  simplest  herb, 
The  smallest  flower,  the  atom  scarce  perceiv'd, 
Is  fraught  with  useful  lessons  to  mankind. 
Did  man  consider,  he  might  wisdom  gain 
From  nature's  face ;  where'er  he  turns  his  eyes. 
What's  wisdom  ?   'tis  another  name  for  virtue. 
A  vicious  man  can  ne'er  be  truly  wise; 

R 


194  POEMS. 

A  vicious  man  may  boast  a  genius  bright, 
Surprising  wit  and  subtilty  of  thought, 
Yet  from  true  wisdom  be  as  far  remov'd, 
As  light  from  darkness,  glory  is  from  shame. 
Genius  and  wit,  when  happily  combined 
With  rectitude  of  heart,  make  virtue  shine, 
And  add  new  lustre  to  her  native  grace. 


A  SONG. 


FAIR  MIR  A,  in  a  lonely  grove, 

Retir'd  from  mortal  sight, 
Thus  sweetly  sung :  (her  theme  was  love, 

The  parent  of  delight) 

Come,  love,  she  cries,  divinely  smile ; 

Come,  brighten  every  thought : 
?Tis  thii>e  to  sweeten  care  and  toil, 

And  smoothe  the  hardest  lot. 

Oh  !  that  for  me  some  gentle  youth 
Might  feel  his  bosom  heave ! 


POEMS.  195 

Let  him  speak  nothing  but  the  truth, 
And  let  me  still  believe. 

Let  sacred  friendship  fan  the  fire. 

And  kindness  bid  it  glow  ; 
Let  mutual  love  our  hearts  inspire, 

In  scenes  of  weal  or  woe. 

Let  virtue  rule  in  either  mind ; 

From  her  our  joys  we'll  date, 
Nor  seek  illnatur'd  faults  to  find, 

Or  subjects  of  debate. 

Let  us  be  cheerful  as  the  lark, 

But  innocently  gay : 
Through  life  let  wisdom  steer  our  bark, 

And  guide  to  realms  of  day. 

Thus  Mira  sung  in  sweetest  strains. 

Unconscious  of  a  listening  ear ; 
When  Thyrses,  pride  of  neighb'ring  plains. 

Close  at  her  elbow  did  appear. 

She  started — He  enraptur'd  cries, 
Be  not  alarm'd,  my  charming  maid. 

Such  sentiments  need  no  disguise  ; 
Disown  them  not,  he  smiling  said, 


196  POEMS. 

Ah  !  might  I  to  such  charms  aspire, 
Or  hope  to  gain  a  heart  so  true, 

To  Mira's  name  I'd  set  my  lyre, 
And  only  sing  of  love  and  you. 

Say,  may  the  advent'rous  Thyrses  try 
To  realize  th>  ideal  swain  ? 

You'll  make  the  fairest  biide,  and  I 
The  fondest  lover  on  the  plain. 

Quick  to  her  cheek  the  blushes  came ; 

Her  tongue  no  answer  could  devise  : 
Nor  did  the  youth  her  silence  blame  5 

But  read  his  success  in  her  eyes. 


A  SONG. 


Ah  fatal  delusion !  my  reason's  disgrace ! 
It  is  not  his  person,  his  mind,    nor  his  face, 
But  some  striking  features  in  each,  have  combin'd 
To  warp  my  fond  heart,  and  entangle  my  mind. 


POEMS.  197 

JFor  uniform  virtue  I  can't  him  approve  ; 
Though  virtue's  the  proper  foundation  of  love; 
Yet  the  outlines  of  some  noble  virtues  appear, 
Confronted  with  .vices  which  call  for  a  tear. 

What  strange  contradictions  in  him  are  combin'd ! 
He's  proud  and  impetuous,  yet  tender  and  kind  : 
In  passion  he  rises,  like  the  high-swelling  wave, 
And  shows  us  at  once  both  the  tyrant  and  slave. 

O  Fancy  !  you  drew  with  too  flatt'ring  a  hand  ; 
You  brought  me  a  picture  I  could  not  withstand. 
How  alter'd  it  seems,  when  revised  by  truth ! 
Alas !  that  such  follies  should  cleave  to  the  youth ! 


R2 


198  POEMS. 


To  THE  PUBLIC. 


WHAT  various  feelings  now  my  soul  oppress ! 
I  feel  my  spirit  humbled  by  success. 
While  your  indulgence  stimulates  and  cheers, 
It  likewise  raises  the  most  anxious  fears. 
I  tremble,  lest  emerging  into  day, 
This  little  work  your  kindness  can't  repay. 
Would  He,  who  is  all  condescension,  deign, 
To  foster  virtue  by  so  weak  a  mean, 
What  sweet  emotions  in  by  breast  would  glow ! 
How  must  my  heart  with  gratitude  overflow ! 
May  I  the  feelings  of  that  heart  express, 
Towards  those,  who  have  revis'd*  it  for  the  press ! 
They  gave  that  time  in  which  they  found  no  void ; 
(For  minds  like  their's  are  constantly  employ'd) 
To  me  their  kind  attention  has  been  given, 
As  freely  as  the  light  received  from  heav'n. 
That  Power,  who  doth  benevolence  regard, 
Be  still  their  patron  and  their  sure  reward ! 
To  pay  the  tribute  due  to  every  friend, 
Would  be  a  labour  that  would  have  no  end : 

*  This  respects  the  attention  paid  by  some  friends,  to  guard 
against  mere  typographical  errors.  Editor. 


POEMS.  199 

But,  that  I  may  in  your  remembrance  live, 
I  will  to  each,  my  humble  likeness  give. 

IN  early  days,  when  childish  fancies  play, 
And  often  lead  the  wandering  steps  astray ; 
When  various  forms  of  gay  ideas  rise, 
And  novelty  ten  thousand  charms  supplies; 
At  that  sweet  season,  when  the  tender  mind 
Opens  a-pace,  and  ranges  unconfin'd  ; 
I  then  was  of  a  magic  w^and  possessed, 
Which  future  scenes,  in  brightest  colours,  dress'd* 
An  opening  paradise  before  me  stood  ; 
The  world  look'd  fair,  and  all  its  natives  good. 
Yet  in  that  world  I  little  interest  took ; 
My  highest  source  of  pleasure  was  .a  book. 
To  this  I  sacrificed  my  love  of  play ;    * 
On  this  I  often  por'cl  till  break  of  day. 
And  ev'n  'my  food  I  sometimes  would  neglect, 
And  to  my  raiment  paid  not  due  respect. 
I  thought  that  time,  (no  effort  us'd  by  me,) 
Would  make  me  all  a  woman  ought  to  be; 
Expert,  each  household  duty  to  fulfill, 
And  ply  my  needle  with  the  neatest  skill. 
The  hardest  toil  I  early  leanVd  to  bear, 
Which  cali'd  for  little  thought  and  little  care, 


200  POEMS. 

Nor  did  my  hands  the  roughest  task  refuse; 
Which  left  the  mind  to  cultivate  the  muse. 
Then  jnemory  treasured  each  poetic  flight. 
(Thus  occupied,  I  had  no  hands  to  write) 
And  when  at  leisure,  I  the  muse  forsook, 
For  Hie  far  dearer  pleasure  of  a  book. 
Abstracted  thus,  I  reach'd  my  vernal  prime, 
And  thus  at  once  improv'd  and  wasted  time. 
But  awkward  and  unqualified,  I  find 
That  common  things  must  occupy  the  mind ; 
To  these  a  due  attention  should  be  given, 
To  fill  the  sphere  allotted  us  by  heaven. 
Unskill'd  in  life  to  act  a  graceful  part, 
I  feel  deficient,  and  it  wounds  my  heart. 
The  time  that's  past  I  cannot  now  recall ; 
T'  improve  the  present,  then,  is  all  in  all. 
I've  lost  my  magic  \vand!  this  world  appears 
At  once  a  state  of  comfort  and  of  cares. 
The  pangs  of  disappointment  I  have  known, 
And  shar'd  in  sorrow's  which  were  not  my  own, 
Unthought-of  blessings  too  I've  seen  arise, 
And  tasted  sweetness  in  a  neighbour's  joys. 
Both  in  myself  and  others  I  discern 
Enough  of  guilt,  to  call  for  deep  concern; 


POEMS,  201 

But,  in  a  Saviour's  righteousness,  behold 
Sufficient  worth  to  turn  our  dross  to  gold, 
I  find  a  want  in  sublunary  things, 
And  long  to  drink  at  the  immortal  springs. 
Beyond  this  world  the  eye  of  faith  descries 
Unfading  bliss,  a  real  paradise. 


202  POEMS. 


AN  ADDRESS  TO  FANCY,  BY  MRS.  J.  F  -  * 

CHARMING  Nymph  !  ah,  wilt  thou  deign 
To  revisit  once  again, 

This  melancholy  seat  ; 
So  oft  the  seat  of  care  and  pain, 
Where  languor  spreads  its  leaden  reign, 

And  finds  a  safe  retreat. 

Yet  here,  ev*n  here,  at  thy  return 
Could  grief  awhile  forget  to  mourn, 

And  anguish  cease  to  sigh; 
While  mem'ry  pleas'd,  recalls  each  scene, 
When  Fancy  led  gay  Pleasure's  train, 

Thro'  boundless  realms  of  joy; 

Then  smiling  Hope,  and  Health,  and  Youth, 
With  Love,  and  Innocence,  and  Truth, 

Combin'd  their  gentle  pow'rs  ; 
To  chace  each  sickening  gloom  away, 
To  make  each  op'ning  prospect  gay, 

And  gild  the  flying  hours. 


POEMS.  203 

But  Youth,  and  Health,  and  Hope  are  fled; 
And  pining  Care,  in  Fancy's  stead, 

My  anxious  thoughts  employ ; 
While  various  ills,  in  dread  array 
Approaching,  fill  me  with  dismay, 

And  banish  me  from  joy. 

Ev'n  Love^  whose  pure  and  pleasing  form 
Was  wont  each  sorrow  to  disarm, 

A  venom'd  shaft  supplies. 
To  see  my  Husband  griefs  endure 
I  cannot  ease,  and  nought  can  cure, 

My  bosom  bleeding  lies ! 

But  come !  and  with  thy  magic  wand 
Disperse  the  grim,  terrific  band  ; 

Till  time  with  ceaseless  flow, 
His  healing  balsam  shall  impart, 
To  cure  the  pangs  which  wring  my  heart, 

And  mitigate  my  woe. 


FINIS. 


ERRATTA. 

Page  29,  line  3,  for  unaltered  read  exalted. 

31 14,  for  as  read  or. 

32 11,  for  serious  read  various. 

66 19,  for  mother's  read  fathers. 

89 3,  for  deadly  read  daily. 

95 i4f  for  rack  read  racks. 

115 14,  for  or  read  on. 

150 14,  for  means  read  mean. 

1171 21,  Mr.  7.  7.  read  Mr.  7.  /. 


A  LIST  OF 

SUBSCRIBERS'  NAMES. 
CUMBERLAND  COUNTY,  [PENN.] 


MARY  ALEXANDER, 
Rebecca  Alexander, 
Isabella  Alexander, 
Ann  Alexander, 
Rebecca  Armstrong, 
Ann  Armstrong, 
Mary  Adams, 
Mary  Allen, 
Mary  Armor, 
Ann  Armor, 
Elizabeth  Armstrong, 
Mary  Adams, 
Hannah    A.ikew, 
A.  Barbara  Albright, 
James  Alexander, 
William  Armor,  jun. 
Robert  Agnevv, 
John  Arthur, 
Samuel  Adams, 
Thomas  Anderson, 
James  Atchey, 
Joseph  Arthur. 


B 


^  Sabina  Brackenridge, 
S  Margaret  Blaine, 
<5  Mary  Black, 
S  Sarah  E.  Blaine, 
<J  Elizabeth  Boden, 
S  Sarah  Boden, 
<5  John  Boden, 
S  Frederick  Boyer> 
<J  John  Borland, 
S  Robert  Brown, 
Jj  Robert  Baikley, 
^  George  Buchanan, 
^  Thompson  Brown, 
S  Elizabeth  Btll, 
S  Rebeccah  Brown, 
^  Thomas  Bell, 
S  John  Black, 
^  William  Burk, 
S  Mary  Bell, 
<5  Mary  Blean, 
S  William  Brown, 
£  Charles  Bovard, 


206 


SUBSCRIBERS'  NAMES. 


Benjamin  Blackford, 

James  Brown, 

David  Brandt, 

William  Bryson, 

Sally  Brynes, 

Elizabeth  Barker, 

George  Barker, 

Robert  Bell, 

David  Blean, 

Mary  Bel?, 

Elizabeth  Bell, 

David  Briggs, 

James  Bell, 

Hugh  Bryson, 

John  Bolton, 

Rosanna  Bell, 

Isabella  Bailey, 

Hannah  Buchanan, 

Elizabeth  Brown, 

Peggy  Brackenridge, 

Jane  Bard, 

Jane  Brookins, 

John  Barr, 

Mary  Barr, 

John  Benstin. 
C 

Mary  Cissne, 

Mary  Cochran, 

Mary  Craig, 

WilHam  Cochran, 

Tohn  Clarke, 

George  Cart, 
\ndrew  Crockett, 
ohn  A.  Cooper, 

M.  Sinclair  Clarke, 

John  Creigh, 

Tacob  Crever, 
.ndrew  Carothers, 
amuel  Culbertson, 
'in  Crawford, 


5  William  C.  Chambers, 

$  Robert  Clark, 

S  Mary  Craighead, 

S  Jane  A.  Chambers, 

j>  Elleanor  Creigh, 

S  Samuel  Crowell, 

£  Charles  C.  Cole, 

S  Thomas  Connelly, 

c  Rebecca  Carothers, 

S  John  Carothers, 

\  William  Cook, 

S  Eleanor  Campbell, 

\  Sarah  Campbell, 

S  Mary  Cowan, 

3  David  Coyle, 

S  William  Colwell, 

$  Rebecca  Craighead, 

S  Rachel  Craighead, 

^  John  Cooper, 

S  Elizabeth  Carothers, 

%  Ann  Carothers, 

S  Margaret  Culbertson, 

\  Sally  Culbertson, 

S  James  Carny, 

^  William  Chesnut, 

S  James  Clemmens, 

<J  Mary  Criswell, 

S  Thomas  Clark. 

%  D 

S  Robert  Davidson,  D.  D. 

«5  Martha  Duncan, 

S  Harriot  Dunjcan, 

^  Ellen  Duncan, 

S  Jane  Duncan, 

^  Elizabeth  Duncan, 

S  Patty  Duncan, 

<J  Agnes  Denny, 

S  Mary  Duncan, 

^  Elizabeth  Davidson, 

S  Mary  Denny, 


SUBSCRIBERS'  NAMES. 


207 


John  Dunbar, 
George  Dawson, 
John  Drennan, 
Stephen  Duncan, 
James  Davis, 
Peggy  Douglass, 
Elizabeth  Campbell, 
Anne  Diven, 
Isaac  Deardorff, 
George  Dougherty, 
Henry  D.  Daelhousen. 

E 

Michael  Ege, 
Andrew  Eaken, 
Richard  Evans, 
Samuel  Eccles, 
James  Elliot, 
Frederick  Eichelberger, 
John  Elliott. 

F 

Elizabeth  Flickwir, 
Sarah  Foulk, 
Priscilla  Foulk, 
-/Eneas  Foulk, 
Thomas  Foster, 
Liddy  Fulton, 
Katharine  Fahne stock, 
James  Filson, 
Mary  Fisher, 
Mary  Fisher, 
Rachel  Fox, 
Charles  Fulton, 

G 

Amelia  Givin, 
Martha  Graham, 
Mary  Galbreath, 
Elizabeth  Galbraith, 
John  Gray, 
Robert  Grayson, 
Nathaniel  Gillespie, 


S  Rebecca  Gustine, 
^  Robert  Graham, 
S  James  D.  Greason, 
^  Richard  Gregory, 
S  John  Graham, 
S  Elleanor  Graham, 
S  John  Glover, 
S  William  Gawn, 
S  Joseph  Galbraith, 
S  George  Gibson, 
5  Rachel  Garm, 
<>  John  Geddis-, 
5  David  George, 
S  Peggy  Gamble, 
5  Rosannah  Gleen, 
S  Eleanor  Gillespie. 

S  H 

S  Sarah  Hamilton, 

?.  Jane  E.  Hammil, 

S  Mary  Holmes, 

^  Catherine  W.  Holmes, 

S  Ann  Holmes, 

^  John  Holmes, 

S  Margaret  Hunter, 

<J  Elizabeth  Holcomb, 

S  Mary  Ann  B.  Hemming, 

tj  Jane  Holmes, 

S  Sarah  Harper, 

<J  James  Harper, 

S  William  Harper, 

^  Mary  Harvey, 

S  John  Harper, 

^  Andrew  Huston, 

S  Jean  Heap, 

£  George  Hamill, 

S  William  Hennon, 

^  George  Houk, 

S  Joseph  Hays, 

<J  John  Hayes, 

S 


208 


SUBSCRIBERS'  NAMES. 


Margaret  Fisher, 
Margaret  Henry, 
Robert  Huston, 
Alexander  Hawthorn, 
F.  J.  Haller, 
Isaac  Hoffer, 
Jonathan  Hoge, 
Samuel  Herrick, 
John  Hanna, 
Andrew  Holmes,  jun. 

Eleanor  Junkin, 
Ellenor  Junkin, 
William  Irvine, 
Robert  Irvine, 
John  Irvine, 
Agness  Junkin, 
John  Junkin, 
Joseph  Junkin,  jun. 
Armstrong  Irvin, 
Mary  Irvin, 
John  Irvin, 
Martha  Irvin, 
William  Jameson, 
Stephen  Johnston, 
Samuel  Irwine,  jun. 

K 

Martha  King, 
James  King, 
Joseph  Knox, 
John  Kinkead, 
John  Kernan, 
Andrew  Kerr, 
James  Kinsloe, 
John  Knox. 

L 

Archibald  London,  24. 
Christin  Loudon, 
Mary  Loudon, 
Catherine  Loudon, 


S  Jane  Lambertori| 
^  Isabella  Love, 
S  Alice  Lyon, 
^  Mary  Lyon, 
S  Mary  Laird, 
^  George  Logue, 
S  James  Linn, 

William  Levis, 

Daniel  Leckey, 

Samuel  Lamb, 
S  Catherine  Laughlin, 
^  John  Laughlin, 
S  Mary  Linn, 
t>  William  Linn, 
S  Elizabeth  Laird, 
Ij  Mary  Low  re y, 
S  Sarah  Lowrey, 
^  Hannah  Leeper, 
S  John  Lusk, 
<}  Daniel  Lefer, 
S  Peter  Latshaw. 
<  M 

S  Alison  M'Coskry, 
^  Ann  Mahon, 
S  Sarah  Miller, 
(^  Margaret  M'Cormick, 
S  Mary  Magauran, 
^  Nancy  Moore, 
S  Sally  M'Cord, 
t  Sarah  M'Call, 
j  Elizabath  Moodey, 
^  Eleanor  M^Knight, 
S  Rosanna   Martin, 
^  Maria  M'Cane, 
S  Eleanor  Martin, 
^  Rosanna  Meltay, 
S  Mary  M'Kean, 
^  Betsy  M'Kean, 
S  Elizabeth  M'Keehan, 
^  Martha  M'Ginnis, 


SUBSCRIBERS'  NAMES. 


209 


Mary  M'Connell, 

S  Andrew  Moore, 

Mary  M'Clure, 

^  John  Machet, 

Sarah  M'Cuilough, 

S  Samuel  M'Clintock, 

Margaret  M'Clure, 

^  James  Mateer, 

Peggy  M'Donald, 

S  John  M'Ginnis, 

Mary  M4Kee, 

S  Jeremiah  Miller. 

Roseann  M'Bride, 

S                       N 

Margaret  M'Donald, 

^  Mary  Nicholson, 

Eliza  M'Cormick, 

£  William  Norris, 

Margaret  Mundo, 

^  Lloyd  Noland, 

John  Marshall, 

J>  John  Noble, 

Joseph  M'Cormick, 

S  Thomas  Norton. 

Samuel  M^Neal, 

s                    O 

Mary  M'CIure, 

S  Mary  Orr, 

Grisilda  M'Cormick, 

J>  John  Officer, 

Robert  M'Farlane, 

S  Walter  Oliver, 

William  Munrow, 

>  William  Orr. 

Peter  Manesmith, 

S                       P 

James  Moore, 

|>  Mary  Parker, 

William  MCandlish, 

S  Matilda  Postlethwait, 

David  M'Clure, 

^  Agness  Pattison, 

Andrew  Mateer, 

S  Eleanor  Pollock, 

Isaac  M'Kindley, 

Jj  Catherine  Pollock, 

William  Marshall, 

S  Jean  Purdy, 

George  Murrey, 

^  Mary  Patten, 

William  Moore, 

S  Frances  Patterson, 

William  Moore, 

^  Elizabeth  Patterson,  , 

John  Martin, 

S  Isabella  Patterson, 

John  Montgomery,  3  c. 

vj  Mary    Palm, 

Robert  Miller, 

S  Jane  Porter, 

Jeremiah  M'Kibbin, 

<J  Jane  Purdy, 

Thomas  Metcalfe, 

S  Jane  Peebles, 

Hugh  M4Cormick, 

<J  Mary  Peirce, 

John  M'Dowel, 

S  John  Purdy, 

John  Moore,  jun. 

<J  William  Peebles, 

John  M'Arter, 

S  Robert  Patterson,  Jun 

John  Mateer, 

<J  Robert  Patterson, 

John  M'Collam, 

S  Thomas  Patterson, 

William  M4Cormick, 

^  Robert  Patton, 

Sarah  M'Cord, 

S  Charles  Pattison, 

210 


SUBSCRIBERS5  NAMES. 


I.  B.  Parker, 
Richard  Parker, 
George  Phillips, 
Robert  Phillips. 

Q 

Christopher  Quigley, 
Robert  Quigley, 
James  Quigley,  2  c. 

R 

Elizabeth  Rippey, 
Mary  Rippey, 
Mary  Rippey, 
Eliza  Ramsey, 
Nancy  Ramsey, 
Elizabeth  Ramsey, 
Mary  Ramsey, 
Mary  Robison, 
Mary  Rainey, 
Margaret  Rine, 
Mary  Rhine, 
Nancy  Ralston, 
Sophia  Redett, 
Kitty  Raum, 
Jane  Ross, 
Elliner  Rosbery, 
Robert  Ross, 
Charles  Rowan, 
Andrew  Russel, 
Henry  Reehm, 
Jeremiah  Rees, 
John  Reed, 
James  Ross, 
William  Richey, 
William  Rogers, 
James  Rogers, 
Nathaniel  Ramsey. 

S 

Susanna  Sheldon, 
Fanny  Sturgeon, 
Susan  Sturm, 


£  Elizabeth  Searight, 

S  Jane  Stewart, 

5  Eliza  Seely, 

S  Margaret  Smith, 

£  Peggy  Sterritt, 

S  John  Scouller, 

J>  E.  D.  W.  Simpson, 
Philip  Scroff 
James  Stitt, 
Margaret  Stouch, 
James  Sterritt, 
Frederick  Speck, 
Ephraim  Steel, 

S  George  Stewart, 

<J  John  Smith, 

S  George  Sanderson, 

^  John  Shippen, 

S  George  Stine, 

S  John  Stephens, 

£  Edward  J.  Stiles, 

S  Samuel  Sample, 

Jj  John  Sample, 

S  James  Sharp. 

*  T 

S  Jane  Thompson, 
Jj  David  Turner, 
S  David  Thompson, 
^  Samuel  Tate, 
S  Robert  Taylor, 
}j  Thomas  Trimble, 
S  Mathew  Thompson. 

S  U 

S  Elizabeth  Vanlear, 

^  Adam  Uleny. 
<  W 

Jj  Rev.  Joshua  Williams, 
S  Juliana  Watts, 
tj  Jean  Wilson, 
S  Mary  Ann  Webber, 
Ann  Walker, 


SUBSCRIBERS'  NAMES.          211 

Isabella  Walker,  S  David  Walker, 

Jane  Walker,  <J  James  Waugh, 

Margaret  Walker,  S  James  Woodburn, 

Nancy  Weakley,  <j  Tamor  Williamson, 

Hetty  Weakley,  S  Joseph  Williams, 

Sidney  Weakley,  <J  James  Williams, 

Jane  Weakley,  S  Samuel  F.  Woracken, 

Margaret  Woods,  <J  Mary  Williams, 

Nathan  Woods,  S  George  Wilson, 

Samuel  Woods,  <J  John  Walls, 

Nathan  Woods,  S  Thomas  Weakley 

Samuel  Weakley,  <J  Robert  Walker, 

William  Walker,  S  William  Woods, 

John  Walker,  <J  James    Wilkinson^ 

Thomas  Walker,  S  Sarah  Young. 


PHILADELPHIA. 

Rev.  J.  M.  Bradford,  S  Sally  L.  Gamble, 

Mary  Bradford,  ^  N.  P.  Holbart, 

Elizabeth  C.  Budd,  S  Lettitia  C.  Henry, 

Sarah  Black,  ^  John  E.  Hall, 

Robert  Burnside,  ^  Mary  Anna  Hall, 

Jane  Brown,  ^  Rev.  Jacob  J.  Janeway, 

Margaret  Carswell,  £  Ann  Jones, 

J.  N.  Crowell,  S  Adam  Koenigmacher, 

Cornelius  Conrad,  £  George.  R.  Kuhn, 

John  Drinker,  S  William  Kennedy,  jun. 

M.  Dunlap,  J>  Mary  Loxley, 

Samuel  F.  Dawes,  ^  Sarah  Lane, 

Mary  Davidson,  ?  Margaret  Maris, 

Lewis  Eddy,  S  Rachel  IVIaris, 

Henry  Freeman,  S  Jane  Malcolm, 

Mary  Flintham,  ^  Mary  Ann  Miller, 

Mary  Fisher,  S  Maria  Moylan, 

Valeria  Fullerton,  S  Sarah  Mason, 

Samuel  L  Fisher,  S  William  Millikin, 

Ashbel  Green,  D  .  D.  ^  George  Ord, 


212  SUBSCRIBERS'  NAMES. 

Susan  Perot,  S  A.  Spencer, 

Emma  Patterson)  ^  Robert  Smith,  jun. 

Eliza  Ross,  S  Ann  Sayre,  2. 

Clymer  Ross,  ^  W.  Sergeant,  3. 

Rebecca  Richards,  S  Maria  C.  Stokes, 

M.  C.  Ralston,  ^  J.  G.  Thomson, 

Samuel  B.  Rawle,  S  Hanah  Whiteheacl, 

Harriet  L.  Scot,  <J  Sarah  Whitehead, 

Ann  Smith,  S  Francis  R.  W  barton? 

Margaret  Shippen,  ^  E.  Watson. 


CHESTER  COUNTY. 

John  W.  Armor,  S  Matthew  Grier, 

Alexander  Boyd,  ^  Joseph  Grier, 

Penrose  W.  Bowen,  S  James  Hutchinson, 

Rev.  Nathan  Grier,  ^  Thomas  Harris, 

John  Grier,  S  John  M'Camant, 

John  F.  Grier,  <J  James  Ralston. 

LANCASTER  COUNTY. 

Thomas  Burrowes,  S  George  Hoffman, 

Andrew  Franck,  ^  Abraham  Hoober, 

John  Funk,  S  Susan  Hoober, 

David  Good,  $  Abraham  Varley. 


YORK  COUNTY. 

John  Black,  S  Joshua  Smith, 

Thomas  Campbell,  ^  Michael  J.  Simpson* 

Edward  O'Hail,  S 


MIFFLIN  COUNTY. 

Thomas  Campbell,  S  John  Henderson, 

Steward  Laird?  ^  George  Willson, 


SUBSCRIBERS'  NAMES. 


213 


FRANKLIN  COUNTY. 


Nancy  Allison, 
James  Armstrong, 
Nancy  Barr, 
James  Barr, 
Jane  Buchanan, 
John  Bourns, 
William  Bleakney, 
Jeremy  Burns, 
John  Black, 
Eleanor  Blackburn, 
Mary  Brown, 
John  Baker, 
Rebecca  Clopper, 
John  Coughran, 
Jane  Coffey, 
John  Crooks, 
Robert  Crooks, 
John  Cox, 
Michael  Coskery, 
William  H.  Coan, 
Martha  Donavan, 
Molly  Craig  Davison, 
Molly  Davison, 
Rosannah  Dowrey, 
Rebecca  Douglass, 
W.  Dawny, 
John  Fulton, 
James  Ferguson, 
Jane  Fincllay, 
Sidney  Grubb, 
Jane  Gordan, 
Hans  Gordan, 
Jacob  Gares, 
John  Gebby, 
Annass  Gardner, 
Alexander   Gordan, 
Samuel  Gilliland, 
John  Herron, 
Samuel  Hays,  jun. 


S  Sarah  Henderson, 
<J  Sally  Herron, 
S  Jane  Johnston, 
^  Henry  Keagy, 
S  William  Kelly, 
^  Charles  Leeper, 
S  James  Linn, 
S  Patrick  Loury, 
S  George  Long, 
S  George  Linn, 
J>  William  Long, 
^  Thomas  C.  Lane, 
S  Samuel  M^Cutchen, 
^  William  Miner, 
S  Nancy  M-Dowell, 
S  Polly  M4Farland, 
5  Molly  McDowell, 
S  Martha  Mdillough, 
^  Susannah  MkCollough, 
S  Lattious  M'Lanahan, 
£  John  McDowell, 
S  William  Merrit, 
Jj  Margaret  M'Dowell, 
S  Kissey  M;Ferrin, 
>  David  M'Crea, 
S  Adam  M'Kee, 
£  John  M'Clelland, 
S  Elizabeth  M*Canahan? 
J^  James  Matron, 
S  Nancy  M^Culloh, 
^  Andrew  Morrov^, 
S  David  M'Kinny, 
Jj  Joseph  M'Collancl, 
S  Mary  Mahon, 
%  David  M4Comb, 
S  David  Maclay, 
%  David  McKinney, 
S  Charles  Maclay, 
%  William  Morrow, 


214        SUBSCRIBERS'  NAMES. 


James  Moorhead,  Jan. 
John  Nicodemus, 
David  Nevin, 
Martha  Nevin, 
Jane  Patton, 
Elizabeth  Piper, 
William  Randells, 
John  Russel, 
William  Reynolds, 
John    Royer, 
Sally  Smith, 
Margaret  Scott, 


S  Michael  Stoner, 
1*  Ruhamah  Sterrett, 
S  John  Stoner,  jun. 
«^  John  Thompson, 
S  Elizabeth  Vanlear, 
^  Nathaniel  Wilson, 
S  Isabella  Work, 
$  Sally  Wylie, 
S  Charles  Wilson, 
%  Stephen  Wilson, 
S  Mary  Walker, 
^  Mary  Young. 


WASHINGTON  COUNTY. 


Stephen  Boyer, 
Thomas  Briceland, 
James  Boyd, 
Anna  Brown, 
Maria  Briceland, 
Polly  Boland, 
Richard  Coulter, 
James  Culbertson, 
Joseph  Campbell, 
Lyclia  Carry, 
Margaret  Canon, 
Anna  Canon, 
Mary  Clerk, 
Margaret  Colwell, 
Anna  Chiticher, 
Rev.  James  Dunlap, 
John  Dunlap, 
John  Donald, 
Hannah  Dodd, 
Mary  Dodcl, 
Sally  Dunlap, 
Jane  Emery, 
Juliet  Erwin, 
Hariet  Erwin, 


Johnston  Eaton, 
Jane  Emery, 
Maria  A.  Everet, 
Eliza  Foster, 
Maria  Graham, 

^  Peggy  Hughes, 

J  Jane  Hill, 

<  G Haslet, 

S  Jane  Hestbey, 

<>  Martha  Hestbey, 
>  Elenor  Hughs, 
S  Patty  Hughs, 
J>  James  Hughes, 
S  Massy  Jennings, 
|>  Nancy  Ledlie, 

<  Jane  Ladlie, 

5  Jonathan  Leslie, 
S  Rev.  John  M'Millan, 
£  Samuel  Miller, 
S  Gilbert  M'Master, 
^  James  M'Ccnnel, 
S  Thomas  Moore, 
S  Andrew  Munroe, 
^  James  Murdock, 


SUBSCRIBERS'  NAMES.        215 


John  M'Master, 
Elenor  Murdock, 
Sally  M'Curdy, 
Margaret  Matson, 
Anna  Murdock, 
Catherine  M'Millen, 
Eliza  M^Dowd, 
Mary  M'Gill, 
Anna  Mercer, 
Margaret  Mercer, 
Lydia  M'Name, 
Eliza  M'Clellan, 
Peggy  M'Donald, 
Patty  M'Donald, 
Sally  Neal, 
Samuel  Porter, 
James  Patterson, 
Margaret  Ritche, 
Agness  Roberts, 
Jane  Roberts, 


S  Adam  Robison, 
Christopher  Rankinj 
Rachel  Scroggs, 
Jane  Scot, 
Jane  Surgeon, 
Anna  Smith, 
£  Sally  Stevenson, 
^  Jtiliet  Smith, 
S  Hariet  Smith, 
^  John  Sinclare, 
J>  James  Scott, 
^  George  Tenamon, 
S  John  B.  Trevor, 
^  Elenor  Watson, 
S  James  Wilson, 
^  Mathew  Wallace, 
S  John  Williamson, 
<5  Martin  Willson, 
S  John  Weaver, 
John  White. 


WESTMORELAND  COUNTY. 


John  B.  Alexander, 
Andrew  Armstrong, 
James  Armstrong, 
Ann  Armstrong, 
Polly  Black, 
Richard  E.  Caruthers, 
Martha  Dickey, 
Simon  Drum,  jun. 
P.  S.  Dearborn, 
William  Doherty, 
Martha  Findley, 
Mary  Findley, 
David  Findley, 
John  Gregg, 
Samuel  Guthrie, 
Mrs.  Hoge, 


S  Robert  M'Farland, 
^  John  Marshall, 
S  James  Milby, 
<J  Thomas  M'Guire, 
S  Andrew  M'Calley, 
^  Catherina  Marihand, 
S  Samuel  C.  Orr, 
(^  Robert  Purviance, 
S  James  Parr, 
^  Robert  Rainey, 
S  Benjamin  Sloan, 
^  James  Stanley 
S  Elizabeth  Schaeffer, 
^  Eliza  Snowden, 
S  Johnston  Thompson, 
S  Joseph  Taylor, 


216         SUBSCRIBERS'  NAMES. 

Thomas  Hamilton,  S  Hugh  Wiley, 

Eliza  Johnston,  ^  Eliza  Wigley, 

Mathew  Jack,  S  John  Wills, 

Daniel  M'Michael,  ^  John  Young. 


ALLEGAJJY  COUNTY. 

Zadok  Cramer,  20.  S  Margaret  Murphy, 

James  Duncan,  ^  Alexander  Miller, 

"William  Jones,  S  Robert  Shields, 

Ebenezer  Larimer  ^  Rachel  Tidball, 

Jean  Means,  S  Thomas  Tidball. 

Jean  M'Elhiney,  !* 


CENTRE  COUNTY. 

Elizabeth  Alexander,  |>  Laura  Miles, 

William  Allison,  s  J°hn  Patterson, 

Andrew  Boden,  S  Walker  Reed, 

Andrew  Boggs,  ^  Anna  Swarzy, 

Ph.  Burnside,  S  Robert  T.  Stewart, 

Margerie  Castin,  ^  Agness  Williams, 

Molly  Dunlap,  S  Nancy  Williams, 

Robert  M'Clanahan,  ^  Amelia  Williams. 

Eliza  M'Kee,  S 


ADAMS  COUNTY. 

Samuel  Agnew,  S  Alexander  Russell, 

Alexander  Cobean,  ^  Samuel  M.  Peed, 

James  Duncan,  S  James  Seatt, 

Robert  Hays,  5*  Walter  Smyth, 

Maihew  Longevell,  S  Thomas  Thornburgh. 

Thamas  Pearson,  ^ 


SUBSCRIBERS'  NAMES.         217 

Eliza  Brandon,  S  Martha  Pearson, 

John  Bonner,  ^  Allen  Robinette,  jun. 

Susanna  Everitt,  S  Rachel  Thompson, 

Isaac  Everitt,  ^  Susannah  Wierman, 

Joel  Garretson,  S  Sarah  Wierman, 

James  Lloyd,  <,  Eliza  Wright, 

Pletcher  Moorehead,  S  Nicholas  Wierman, 

Thomas  Pearson,  ^  Nicholas  Wierman,  jun. 

York  County.     William  Godfrey,  sen.  Charles  Godfrey* 

CUMBERLAND  COUNTY. 

Margaret  Buchanan,  S  Mathew  Golden, 

Simon  Boyd,  ^  Samuel  Lewis, 

Samuel  Brandeherry,  S  John  Montgomery, 

William  Ewing,  ^  James  M'Kernan, 

Peter  Ege,  2.  S  William  M'Clean, 

Hugh  Ford,  $  James  Oliver. 


DAUPHIN  COUNTY. 

Albright  and  Elder,  S  Joseph  Kelso, 

Margaret  Brown,  ^  John  Lyon, 

Harriott  Berryhill,  S  Samuel  Laird, 

William  Boyd,  <,  Washington  Lee5 

Gorge  Brenizer,  S  J.  Montgomery, 

Martha  Bell,  S  William  Maclay, 

Samuel  Bell,  J>  Eleanor  Maclay, 

John  B.  Cox,  ^  Melchior  Rahm,  Jun» 

Joshua  Elder,  S  Melchior  Rahm, 

Thomas  Elder,  S  Nancy  Ritchey, 

Jane  Ferguson,  £  Margaret  Ritchey 

John  Foster,  <>  Mary  Snodgrass, 

Molly  Hanna,  S  Jane  Simonton, 

Robert  Harris,  S  Hannah  Wickersh*w, 

Hugh  Hamilton,  £  Rose  Wright, 

John  Howard,  S  David  Wray* 

Sarah  Irwin,  S 

T 


218 


SUBSCRIBERS'  NAMES. 


LYCOMING 

Elizabeth  Crawford,  S 

Flora  Carr,  ^ 

Sally  Crane,  $ 

Mary  Ann  Duffey, 
James  Davidson, 
Rev.  Isaac  Gricr, 
Margaret  Gallagher, 
John  Knox, 

Eleanor  R.  Montgomery, 
Jane  Morrison, 
Sophia  Martin, 


COUNTY. 

James  M'Clintock,  Jun> 
James  M'Clure, 
Polly  Strain, 
Hugh  M'Fadden, 
Samuel  Morrison, 
Mary  Pfouty, 
Nancy  Ramser, 
Charles  Stewart, 
Jane  Stewart, 
Margaret  Simmons? 
Nancy  White. 


MONTGOMERY  COUNTY. 


John  Davis, 
Elisha  Evans, 
John  Elliot, 
Samuel  Gurtley, 
David  George, 
George  W.  Holstein, 
Samuel  Henderson, 
M.  Holstein, 
William  Henderson? 


S  John  Hughes, 
^  James  Huddleson, 
S  Morris  Jones, 
<J  John  Markley, 
S  Jona  Phillips, 
^  Levi  Pawling, 
S  F.  Swaine, 
<5  David  Thomas, 
S  David  Wilson. 


MIFFLIN  COUNTY. 


Mary  Aitken, 
John  Alexander, 
John  Brown, 
John  H.  Bryson, 
William  Brown, 
James  Chriswell, 
John  Culbertson,  2. 
Edward  Cole, 
Samuel  Duncan, 

Huntingdon* 
Centre* 


S  Nancy  Hale, 

<J  Mary  Irvine, 

S  William  W.  Lairc^ 

<J  David  M'Kee, 

S  David  M'Conaghy, 

<J  James  M'Farlane, 

S  Andrew  Nelson, 

^Edward  Williams, 

S  John  Waggoner. 

C  John  P.  M'Knight, 
"£  Samuel  Riddle, 
James  Potter. 


SUBSCRIBERS'  NAMES. 


219 


FREDERICK. 

Esther  Addams, 
W.  Addams, 
John  Brengle, 
William  M.  Beall,  Jun 
John  Baltzell, 
Jacob  Baer, 
Gorge  Baer,  Jun. 
John  Bayly, 
Richard  Brown, 
John  Bell, 
John  B.  Colvin, 
Gorge  Creager,  Jun. 
Thomas  H.  Gushing, 
Eliza  W.  Duvall, 
John  A.  Dean, 
Mary  Dawson, 
Elisha  Easton, 
George  Graff, 
R.  H.  Graham, 
John  L.  Harding, 
William  C.  Hobbs, 
Catherine  W.  Johnson, 
James  Johnson,  Jun. 
Baker  Johnson,  jun. 


TOWN,  [MARYLAND.] 

S  Maria  E»  Koontz, 

^  Hugh  Kennedy, 

£  Frederick  Leohr, 

S  Anna  L.  Murdock, 

S  Anna  Louisa  Morris, 

S  William  T.  Morris, 

j*  James  M'Atee, 

S  Francis  M'Crea, 

j>  P.  Manzt, 

S  Jane  L.  Noland, 

?  Samuel  Potts, 

S  H.  Ruth> 

^  William  Ritchie, 

S  Elizabeth  Steiner, 

^  Maria  C.  Steiner, 

S  John  Stoner, 

^  Margaret  Thomson, 

S  John  P.  Thomson, 

I*  Catherine  Tyler, 

S  Roger  B.  Taney, 

^  Rev.  Daniel  Wagner, 

S  H.  C.  Wampler, 

^  Mereen  Tyler  Wickham> 

S  G»  Wagneiv 


NEW-YORK. 


S  John  Linn, 
Rev.  Alexander  M'Cleod, 


A.  L.  Braine, 

Mary  Charnley, 

Alexander  Christy, 

James  Davidson, 

Thomas  Fountain, 

Peter  Fen  ton, 

Rev.  Thomas  Hamilton,  4.  S'  Margaretta  Young. 

James  Kelsa, 


S  Robert  M'Conachy, 
^  i.ouis  M^Lane, 
S  Samuel  SaEfan, 
,  Benjamin  Veitch, 


220 


SUBSCRIBERS'  NAMES, 


PRINCETON,  [N.  JERSEY.] 
Martin  Agnew,  S  M.  Kollock, 


Isaac  Anderson, 

James  Bunyan, 

John  Bar  rat, 

A.  M.  Bayard,  fJV.  B.) 

Margaret  Cozene, 

M.  Campbell, 

I.  H.  Conpin, 

Eli  Cooley, 

Alfred  Ely, 

Jacob  C.  Ten  Eyck, 

Hetty  Gaw, 

John  Gifford, 

Robert  S.  Green, 

Mary  W.  Houston, 

Isaac  Homer,  Jun. 

E.  Hylton,  (E.  Town.) 

John  Hamilton, 

John  Harrison, 

Mary  Hunter, 

James  Hamilton, 

Thomas  P.  Johnson, 

Francis  D.  Janvier, 

John  Jones, 


v,  Eliza  Kelsey, 

S  Zebulon  Morford? 

^  Mary  Minto, 

S  John  Napton, 

<  William  Neill, 

5  Perez  Rowley, 

\  Mary  Reed, 

S  Samuel  Rossr 

^  Lyclia  Stille, 

S  Mary  Stockton, 

<J  Ruth  Stryker, 

S  Samuel  Scott, 

^  Anne  Smith, 

S  S.  F.  Smith, 

^  D.  Salomons, 

S  William  C.  Schenck? 

^  Ebenezer  Stockton, 

S  Margaret  Thomson, 

^  Joseph  J.  Thompson, 

S  John  Vandike, 

^Nathaniel  S.  Wikoffr 

S  John  Wilson. 


Baltimore. 


C  Robert  Garret, 
^Elizabeth  Wilson.. 

Philadelphia.    Maria  DonnelU 


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